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About Google Book Search Google's mission is to organize the world's information and to make it universally accessible and useful. Google Book Search helps readers discover the world's books while helping authors and publishers reach new audiences. You can search through the full text of this book on the web at |http: //books .google .com/I to?-^ \ f ON THE LIFE, WRITINGS, AND GENIUS OF AKENSIDE. LONDON : PBINTED BT THOMAS DiiYISOK, WHITEFRIARS. :i n L ^«a* A)KlSS?gJE]D31., ii«i ■■ k'-^ii^^-^i^^S^^vvMBBVZ^^R^BavaWHHVS^^Bi^a^^S^KSaBiVB^V ON THE LIFE, WRITINGS, AND GENIUS OF AKENSIDE: WITH SOME ACCOUNT OF HIS FRIENDS. BY CHARLES BUCKEj AUTHOR OF THE BEAUTIES, HARMONIES, AND SUBLIMITIES OF NATURE. (« The spadous west, And all the teeming regions of the south, Hold not a quarry to the curious flight Of knowledge, half so tempting and so fair As Man to Man.*' Pkature* of ItnagkiaiUm. LONDON : JAMES COCHRANE AND CO., WATERLOO-PLACE. 1^ } t J, J , > > ' J > I • • • ^ » • • • • • ^ . . » . •• • • . • J • # • • • • *!■». *• •• ' w « TO JOSEPH M^CREA, ESQ. DEAR SIR, To whom can I dedicate these pages with so much propriety, as to One, whose sur- gical skill preserved the life of a son ; and to whose never-sleeping kindness and con- sideration I have been indebted, on a thou- sand different occasions ? '' No years can wash these grateful thoughts away!" I would have sought leave to signify my respect ; but I would not be denied. Accept, then, this memorial as it is meant; and be- lieve me to be. Your very faithful and affectionate friend, THE AUTHOR, London* Having always esteemed the Pleasures OF Imagination the finest didactic Poem in our language, it was with no small pleasure, that I accidentally discovered, some time since, a few MS. notes of Akenside at the British Museum. These notes are not very important ; but they led me to regret, — as, indeed, I had often done before, — that all the accounts, we have, of this great poet, should be so meagre and deficient : — ^and having formerly known two gentlemen, who had been intimately ac- quainted with him, I combined what I had heard them say of him with what was already known ; and taking his works for a general guide — (and few speak more in their works than Akenside does) — I have, I hope, been enabled to give a correct and, perhaps, not altogether an uninteresting outline of a virtuous and high-minded man, gifted with very considerable poetical powers. The Reader will not expect me to give more than it was possible to obtain. I hope, he will rather thank me for what little I have been able to collect of this eminent person ; though I cannot but feel, that he must greatly regret, that the subject did not fall into abler hands. London. January i 1832. ERRATA. Page 186, 6 lines from bottom, deU Bowles. 192, 4 lines from bottom, ^r Edward, read Edmund. ON THE LIFE, WRITINGS, AND GENIUS OP AKENSIBE. Mare Akenside * was born at Newcastle-upon- Tyne, in the county of Northumberland, on the 9th of November, 1721. His father was a respect- able butcher. His mother's name was Mary Lums- den. They were both exceedingly strict in their religious observances; and being in the habit of attending a meeting-house, which had been then recently erected in Hanover-square, their son was * In all the editions of this poet^ since the sixth published by Dodsley, 1763, the name has been invariably spelt Aken- side ; but in the first edition of the Ode to the Earl of Hunt- ingdon^ the orthography is Akinside, and the poet himself, in his MS. dedication to Mr. Dyson (now first published) subscribes his name in the same manner. B 2 LIFE OF AKENSIDE. baptized by the minister, (the Rev. Benjamin Ben- net,) about three weeks afterwards. Akenside is said to have been, in after life, very much ashamed of the comparative lowness of his birth ; and it is, also, reported, that he could never regard a lameness, which impeded his walking with facility, otherwise than as an unpleasant memento of a cut on the foot, which he received from the fall of one of his father^s cleavers, when about seven years of age. Be this as it may, it is very certain that he had a strong regard for the place of his birth; — and even so late as the year in which he died, (1770) he wrote some beautiful lines, commemorative of the pleasure, he was accustomed to receive, in early life, from wandering among the scenes of his native river. '* O ye dales Of Tyne, and ye^ most ancient woodlands ! where Oft, as the giant flood obliquely strides, And his banks open, and his lawns extend. Stops short the pleased traveller to view. Presiding o'er the scene, some rustic tow'r. Founded by Nokman or by Saxon hands." No accounts have reached us, as to the number of brothers and sisters he had : we only know^ LIFE OF AKENSIDE. S from Brandos Observations on Popular Antiquities, that he knew one of Akehside^s sisters, whose name was Addison, then living in Newcastle ; and that she possessed several drawings, her brother had sketched at a very early period of life. His parents having separated from the church, Akenside, after some preparatory instruction at the free-school of Newcastle, was placed under the care of a dissenting minister, — Mr. Wilson, — who kept a private academy in the same town ; by whom his mind was early awakened to those impressions, which seldom fail — \ 1 To render Nature pleasing to the eye^ And music to the ear*; — " And that he was as feelingly alive to that most de- lightful of all suffrages, — the applause of the wise and good, — is evident from his Ode on the Love of Praise ; than which Horace himself has scarcely one more beautiful. I. '^ Of all the springs within the mind^ Which prompt her steps in Fortune's maze^ From none more pleasing aid we find^ Than from the genuine love of praise. * Pleasures of Imagination, b. iii. 49S. b2 LIFE OF AKENSIDE. 11. Nor any partial private end Such reverence to the public bears. Nor any passion, Virtue's friend. So like to Virtue's self appears. HI. for who in glory can delight. Without delight in virtuous deeds ? What man a charming voice can slight. Who courts the echo that succeeds? IV. But not the echo or the voice More, than on virtue, praise dependi^ ; To which, of course, its real price The judgment of the praiser tends. V. If praise, then, with religious awe From the sole perfect Judge be sought, A nobler aim, a purer law. Nor priest, nor bard, nor snge hath taught ; VI. With which in character the same. Though in an humbler sphere it lies, I coimt that soul of human fame The suffrage of the good und wise." f _.. . II B^i LIFE OF AKENSIDE. 5 Thus, too, in his Ode on hearing a sermon preached against Glory : — " If to spurn at noble praise Be the passport to thy heaven, Follow thou those gloomy ways ; No such law to me was given. Nor, I trust, shall I deplore me. Faring like my friends before me. Nor a holier place desire, Thau Timoleon's arms acquire. And Tully's curule chair, and Milton's golden lyre." Akenside indulged his natural taste for poetry very early ; and, at the age of sixteen, sent to the editor of the Gentleman^s Magazine a poem, written after the manner of Spenser, entitled theViETUOSo; the idea of which seems to have been taken from the subjoined passage of Shaftesbury's Charac* teristics *• * " Hitherto there can lie no ridicule, nor the least scope for satiric wit or raillery. But when we push this virtuoso character a little further, and lead our polished gentleman into more nice researches ; when from the view of mankind and their affairs, our speculative genius, and minute examiner of nature's works, proceeds with equal or perhaps superior zeal, in the contemplation of the insect life, the conveniences^ habitations, and economy of a race of shelUJish; when he has erected a cabinet in due form, and made it the real pat- tern of his mind, replete with the i^me trash and trumpery 6 LIFE OF AKENSIDE. This poem is not only curious, as a juvenile pro- duction, but as it serves to show how early the mind of Akenside was impregnated with the sentiments of that once celebrated writer. Akenside did not think proper to republish this poem in the collection of his works ; and yet, there is not one stanza, of which he needed to have been, in the slightest degree, ashamed. Indeed, it is a very remarkable poem for so young a person. I shall quote the first and last stanzas, with its motto from Persius : Videmus Nugari solttos. '^ Whilom by silver Thames' gentle stream. In London town there dwelt a subtile wight ; A wight of mickle wealth, and mickle fame, Book-learn'd and quaint ; a Virtuoso bight Dncommon things and rare were his delight ; From musings deep his brain ne'er gotten ease ; Nor ceasen he from study day or night ; Until (advancing onwards by degrees) He knew whatever breeds on earthy on air^ or seas." of correspondent empty notions and chimerical conceits ; he then^ indeed^ becomes the subject of sufficient railkry, and is made ihejest of common oouversations."~CAarac^ert>^2W, vol.iii. p. 156. Ed. 1737. LIFE OF AKENSIDE. 7 ^' The wight, whose brain this phantom's * power doth fiU^ On whom she doth, with constant care, attend. Will for a dreadful giant take a mill f , Or a grand palace in a hogstye find % ; (From her dire influence me may Heavn defend! ) All things with vitiated sight he spies -, Neglects his family, forgets his friend ; Seeks painted trifles and fantastic toys; And eagerly pursues imaginary joys." Akenside seems to have entertained a particular contempt for virtuosos ; for he again, makes that order of character a subject for ridicule in the third book of his principal poem. '* Behold yon mystic form. Bedeck'd with feathers, insects, weeds, and shells ! * Not with intenser view, the Samian sage Bent his fixt eye on heaven's intenser fires. When first the order of that radiant scene Swell'd his exulting thought, than this surveys A muckworm's entrails, or a spider's fang." In the same year (viz. 1737) Akenside published, in the same miscellany, a Rhapsody on the miseries of a Poet, born to a low estate. This poem, as a whole, is scarcely worthy of preservation ; but as • Phantasy's. t Alluding to a passage in Don Quixote ; ahout this time translated into English. X From a line in Machiavelli's Asino. 8 LIFE OF AKENSIDE. there are some passages, indicative of future excel- lence, I shall quote them. " Of all the various lots around the ball, Which Fate to man distributes, absolute. Avert, ye Gods ! that of the Muses' son. Cursed with dire poverty. Poor, hungry wretch ! What shall he do for life ? He cannot work With manual labour. Shall those sacred hands. That brought the counsels of the Gods to light. Shall that inspired tongue, which every muse Has touched divine, to diarm the sons of men. These hallow'd orgies — these ! be prostitute To the vile service of some fool in pow«r. All his behests submissive to perform, Howe'er to him ungrateful ? Oh ! he scorns Th* ignoble thought !" The following passage, no doubt, alludes to an order of persons, with whom the poet was, at this time, compelled occasionally to associate. ^^ But 'tis in vain to rave at destiny. Here he must rest ; and brook the best he can ; To live remote from grandeur, learning, wit. Immured among th' ignoble, vulgar herd Cff lowest intellect; whose stupid souls But half inform their bodies *' The succeeding lines allude to the various de- scriptions of poetry, in a manner very appropriate and concise. LIFE OF AKENSIDE. 9 " Upon his brow Perplex'd anxiety^ and struggling thought^ Painful as female throes ! whether the bard Display the deeds of heroes ; or the fall Of vice in lay dramatic; or expand The lyric wing; or in elegiac strains Lament the fair ; or lash the stubborn age With laughing satire" After depicting the miseries of the poet, left only to his own mental energies to sustain the loss of friends, the want of a Halifax, of a Somers, or of a Dorset, and the miseries of indigence, he closes the theme with a striking admonition to himself. '^ I hear my better angel cry, ' Retreat! Rash youth, in time retreat I Let those poor bards> Who slighted all,— all ! for the flattering Muse, Yet cursed with piercing want, as land-marks stand. To warn thee from the service ofth* ingrate*'" The next poem, he sent to the Gentleman's Maga- zine was a fable, illustrative of Content and Am- bition ; and it is really not too much to say of it, that it is almost worthy of being associated with some of the translations which, a few years previous, had been rendered from Ovid's Metamorphoses. * I found this passage inscribed in pencil on the wall of an inn at Cassel, in the department of the North, a few months ago. It was, no doubt, written by some unfortunate English votary of the Muses, then on his^ perhaps, compelled travels. 10 LIFp OF AKENSIDE. He fables, that, in times— ^* While yet the world was youngs and men were few. Nor lurking fraud, nor tyrant rapine knew ;" Content was the only acknowledged sovereign of mankind. « Joy of all hearts^ delight of every eye. Nor grief, nor pain, appear'd, when she was hy; Her presence from the wretched hanish'd care. Dispersed the swelling sigh, and stopt the falling tear. At length, Ambition " hellish fiend ! arose To plague the world, and hanish man's repose." This fiend, determining on the dethronement of Content, all the vain, and lovers of novelty, flocked to his standard : Content was, in consequence, dethroned, and compelled to wander about the world in search of a home. One day, forsaken by every one, and destitute of all things, she came to a cottage, roofed with turf. '* Fast hy a gloomy, venerahle wood Of shady pines, and ancient oaks, it stood." In this retired cottage, bending beneath a weight of years, a cheerful couple had pass'd their life. Thehushand Industry was call'd— Frugality the wife.* i^n LIFE OF AKENSIDE. 11 This pair had many sons, whose occupation con- sisted in cultivating the earth. They had also one daughter, whose name was Plenty. In former years, Content had occasionally visited this cottage ; and being now stripped of her dominions, she determined on seeking in it a refuge from her misfortunes. ^' Arrived^— she makes her changed condition known; Tells how the rehels drove her from the throne j" and implores shelter from the tyeant. The aged pair listened in sympathy to her misfortunes, invited her into their cottage, and entreated her to take up her abode in the bosom of their family. In the meantime, Ambition having attained the summit of his wishes. Polluted every stream with human gore. And scattered plagues and death from shore to shore.' Offended at the evils thus entailed upon mankind, Jupiter looked down with indignation and pity. He desires Venus to dispatch her son, Cupid, to repair to the palace of Ambition, and to strike him with an ardent love for his former rival. Content. Then he commanded Mebcuby to descend to the regions of Pluto, " To rouse Oblivion from her sahle cave ;*' 1^ LIFE OP AKENSIDE. and enjoins her to draw around the abode of Con- tent, a darkness equal to the ^^ 'deepest gloom of night. To screen the Virgin from the Tyrant's sight; That the vain purpose of his life may try, Still to explore, what still eludes his eye' He spake:— Loud praises shake the bright abode. And all applaud the justice of the god." This poem, and several others, Akenside did not feel ambitious of acknowledging ; and they are in- troduced here, not with an intention of advancing his reputation, but as specimens of the poetical power, he possessed, at an early period of life. But though Akenside did not choose to associate them with the fruit of his maturer years, he occa- sionally alludes, and always with satisfaction, to the time in which they were written. Thus in his ode to his Muse, written many years after : *' And now again my bosom bums ; The Muse, the Muse herself, returns \ Such on the banks of Tyne, confest, I hail'd the fair immortal guest. When first she seaTd me for her own. Made all her blissful treasures known. And bade me swear to follow her alone/' -^ LIFE OF AK£NSIDE. 13 Some of his productions, however, at this period, seem to have touched on subjects, which he did not, afterwards, approve ; at least, so we may con- jecture from a passage in his second poem on the Pleasures of Imagination. yho in his Elements of Criticism had espoused the same argument*), as a critic. " The poet,*' says he, " is a follower of Lord Shaftesbury's fancies ; the critic a follower of his own. Both men of taste, and e{][ually anxious for the wdl-dping of ridicule." This postscript gave great offence to Akenside ; and his friend, Mr. Dyson, who seems to have understood the duties of friendship better than the canons of philosophy, armed in defence of him, and wrote an " Epistle to the Rev. Mr. Warburton^ occasioTied hy his treatment cf the author of the Pleasures of Imaffiimtion" We may judge of the style of this letter by the following extract : ^' Notwithstanding the pains you have taken to dis- courage men from entering into any controversy with you ; and notwithstanding the severe example you have just been making of one^ who^^ as you fancied^ had pre- sumed to call you to account ; you must still be content to be accountable for your writings; and must^ once more^ bear the mortification of being actually called to * Part V. chap. vii. xii. LIFE OF AKENSIDE, 39 aocoimt for them. It is the preface to jour late Remarks, that you are now called upon to justify ; in which you have thought fit to treat upon a mighty free footing (as you style it, but in the apprehension of most people^ upon a yery injurious one)^ the ingenious and worthy author of the poem^ entitled ' The Pleasures of Imagina- tion/ The favourable reception and applause, that performance has met witb^ render it unnecessary, and indeed impertinent, for me to enlarge in its praise ; especially as you, sir, have not condescended to enter into a particular censure of the poem. However, by some general hints, scattered up and down, as well as by the affectation of perpetually styling the author our poet, you have let us see how you stand affected towards it. Whether it be, indeed, that dull, trivial, useless thing, you seem to represent it, I shall not dispute with you ; but am content to have, as to this point, Mr. War- burton's judgment staked against the general reputation of the poem. The point I am immediately concerned with, is, your unbecoming treatment of the author; which, as it is so interwoven through the whole course of your preface, as to be sufficiently evident without the , all^ation of repeated passages ; so we shall find there are not wanting repeated instances of direct and noto- rious ill usage ; — such usage as, though the provocation bad been ever so just, and the imagined attack upon you ever so real, would have yet been unwarrantable ; , and which, therefore, cannot admit of the least shadow , of an excuse, when it shall appear, that you had really no provocation at all." 40 LIFE OF AKENSIDE. To this letter Warburton never replied. The indignation of Akenside, and the zeal of Mr. Dyson, were a little too unmeasured ; for the critic did not attack Akenside as a man, nor as a poet ; he merely designated him a follower of Lord Shaftesbury ; and an apologist for an opinion, that has now long been given up as untenable. Indeed the argument is, in itself^ a species of the ridiculous. For who employs ridicule so often as half-informed^ half-witted, insolent, and conceited persons F If ri- dicule, therefore, is a test of truth, these half-in* formed, half-witted, insolent, and conceited persons are the best judges of the most serious and sacred things *. ♦ " Ridicule may befriend either truth or falsehood ; and as it is morally or immorally applied^ may illustrate the one^ or disguise the other. Yet it should seem, that the moral is more natural, than the immoral application of ridicule; in^ asmuch as truth is more congenial to the mind than false-' hood, and so, the real more easily made apparent, than the fictitious images of things. * * * '^ Ridicule, therefore, being of a vague, unsteady nature^ merely relative to the imaginations and passions of mankind, there must be several orders or degrees of it, suited to the fancies and capacities of those, whom the artist attempts to influence. *' But however ridicule may impress the idea of apparent turpitude or falsehood on the imagination ; yet still reason LIFE OF AKKNSIDE. 41 The subject of ridicule, indeed, is, in this poem, an intrusion ; and that the author himself thought it so, may be inferred from his having, in the second poem, curtailed the subject so much, that what, in his first, occupies two hundred and seven lines, is reduced in the second to only fifty. The statement as to the final cause, however, is the same in both*. Akenside, I believe, was occasionally given to ridicule ; and in return was himself ridiculed by a class of persons, with whom it was no great honour to be associated. Smollett did all he could against remains the superior and corrective power. Therefore, every representation of ridicule, which only applies to the fancy and affections, must finally be examined and decided upon, must be tried^ rejected, or received, as the reasoning faculty shall determine ; and thus ridicule can never be a detector of falsehood, or a test of truth."— ^roi^n'* Essays on the CharcLcteristics of the Earl of Shaftesbury* See Characteristics, i. p. 30, 31, 61 ; also 11, 12, 128, 129. For Warburton's opinion, see Divine Legation of Moses, vol. i. X. xviii. xxxvii. xxxix. Horace sums up the power of ridicule in one of those concise periods, of which he was so great a master. Ridiculum acri Fortius et melius magnas plerumque secat res. The power of ridicule is admitted y but that power is very different from the test. 4S LIFE OF AKENSIDE, him in this way, in his novel of Peregrine Pickle ; to which he is said to have been prompted by a , pique *, he had taken, in consequence of Akenside's having made some reflections against Scotland. We may here, perhaps, be excused for intro- ducing a curious anecdote, in respect to Smollett, As he was one day going out of Paternoster-row up Warwick-lane leading to Warwick-square, a butcher came out of his slaughter-house with a dead sheep upon his back : " Get out of the way,*' said the butcher, ^^ or I'll slam this ship in your face." At this moment SmoUett^s foot slipped, and catching hold of the butcher's arm to save his fall, both fell in the gutter, which was streaming with blood from the slaughter-houses. The butcher re- covered himself first, and in iising gave Smollett a violent blow in the face with his bloody fist. Poor Smollett scrambled up as well as he could, all co- vered with gore ; got into a shop, and there remained till a coach was procured to carry him home. He then resided in a court leading out of Dean-street, Soho. When he arrived, the children of the neigh- bourhood, seeing a man streaked with blood get out • See lyisraeli's Cakmities of Authors, voL ii. 2. " Aken- side's mind and manners/' says the author, '< were of a fine^ romantic cast" LIFE OF AKENSIDE. 43 of the coach, surrounded the house^ and the whole place was kept for some time in a state of suspense and confusion. A constable was sent for to search the house, where the bloody man had been taken ; and it was a long time before the crowd could be pacified and dispersed. Smollett lodged there only a few weeks after ; during which time he was fre- quently hailed by the children, ** There goes ike bloody num.'* Hearing that an opening for a physician pre-? sented itself at Northampton, Akenside went thither with an intention of establishing himself. But Dr. S.tonehouse being in full practice, as he found soon after his arrival, and not relishing, as the vulgar saying is, the art of waiting for dead men^s shoes, he returned to London after a stay of about a year and a half; and the only interesting circumstance, ^nnected with his residence there, is an account, furnished us by Dr. Eippis ; who ^ys, that when he resided at Northampton^ he well remembered hearing Dr. Doddridge and Dr. Akenside carry on an amicable debate ^< concerning the opinions of the ancient philosophers, with regard to a future state of rewards and punishments ; in which Akenside supported the firm belief of Cicero in particular, in this great article of natural religion.^ 44 LIFE OF AKENSIDE. This argument calls to our recollection an asser- tion of Dr. Doddridge on another occasion, that ** men of contrary parties sit down more attached to their own opinions than they were at the begin- ning, and much more estranged in affection." As we have no data, on which to build any opinion as to the precise time, in which several of Aken- side'^s odes were written, we are left to our own con- jectures ; and as AHenside had much leisure during his stay at Northampton, we may naturally suppose that he engaged no small portion of that leisure in literary occupation. To this leisure, perhaps, there- fore, we may be indebted for his ode on '* Lyric Poetry;'*' for that on ** the Uses of Poetry ;" and for that to " the Muse." The first of these odes has always been classed with the sublime. The characters of Anacreon, Alcaeus, and Pindar, are finely drawn ; but that of Sappho is injudicious ; and the more so, since the prophecy was not fulfilled. *' Why is my faithful maid distrest? Who^ Sappho^ wounds thy tender breast ? Say^ flies h6 ? soon he shall pursue : Shews he thy gifts ? He soon shall give : Slights he thy sorrows ? He shall grieve^ And soon to all thy wishes bow." St. ii. 1. LIFE OF AK£NSIDE. 45 The simile, " As eagles drink the noontide flame/' St. ii. 2. is far-fetched ; and the idea in a preceding stanza is in a manner not superior to that of Waller : ^' His cheek displays a second spring Of roses^ taught by wine to bloom/' St I 2. But his allusions to himself are always in the best style of egotism. That in the last stanza is little inferior to any similar instance in Cassimir or Buchanan. In respect to the ode " on the Influence of Poetry," Akenside seems to have been, at all times, deeply impressed with the important influence of that powerful art on the manners, happiness, and opinions of mankind. This is amply testified in this ode, as well as in that to his Muse ; and still more strictly inculcated in the episode of Solon, in the third book of his second poem on the Imagina* tion, which seems to have been expressly written to prove the same result. Finding Northampton not to afford any advan- tageous opportunity for the exercise of his me- dical talents, Akenside returned to London; and 46 LIFE OF AKENSIDE. soon after Mr. Dyson bought a house at North- endf Haropstead ; and with a view of introducing his friend to the more opulent inhabitants, he fre- quented with him the long room, and all the clubs and assemblies. He, also, had the extraordinary generosity to allow him three hundred pounds a year, till he should be able to live by his practice, like a gentleman. And now we have leisure to make a few remarks on Akenside'^s sensibility to the softer sex. He never married ; but in the ode he wrote about this time, viz. that to Sir Francis Henry Drake, Bart. — there is a stanza, remarkable for its allu- sion to a lady, whom he styles Olympia r-^ *' Thy stubborn breast^ Though touch'd by many a slighter wound. Hath no full conquest yet confest. Nor the one fatal charmer found. / While I, a true and loyal swain. My fair Olympia's gentle rdgn Through all the varying seasons own ; Her genius still my bosom warms. No other maid for me hath charms ; And I have eyes for her alone." St. viii. Previous to this, however, the poet seems to have entertained an affection for a young lady, Whom LIFE OF AKENSIDE. 4*7 he alludes to in the second book of the Flea* sures of Imagination, under the name of Pae-^ THENiA ; and who seems to have died at a time when he was about to be married to her. At least, such must be our impression on reading the fol- lowing passage : ■ '* Of good and evil much^ And much of mortal man^ my thought revolv'd ; Wlien starting full on fancy's gushing eye^ The mournful image of Pabthenia's fate>— (That hour^ O long heloved and long deplor'd !) When hlooming youths nor gentlest wisdom's arts^ Nor Hymen's honours gather'd for thy brow^ Nor all the lover's^ all the father's tears, Avail'd, to snatch thee from the cruel grave^*— Thy agonizing looks^ thy last farewell^ Struck to the inmost feeling of my soul^ As with the hand of death !" P. /. B. ii. 191. Who Farthenia was, and who Olympia, it is now useless to inquire. He nowhere mentions their real names, and his biographers have not only neglected to inquire^ but even to be unconscious, that such persons ever existed. His love for Olympia, at the time he resided at Hampstead, seems to have been in an early stage ; little, if any thing, more than iriendship : but in a subsequent ode he lets us into the secret, 48 LIFE OF AKENSIDE. that friendship is but too often another name for love: ** Once 1 remember^ new to love. And dreading his tyrannic chain, I sought a gentle maid to prove What peaceful joys in friendship reign, Whence we^ forsooth, might safely stand. And pitying view the lovesick band. And mock the winged boy's malicious hand. Thus frequent pass'd the cloudless day. To smiles and sweet discourse resigned ; While I exulted to survey One generous woman's real mind ; Till friendship soon my languid breast Each night with unknown cares possest, Dash'd my coy slumbers, or my dreams distrest. Fool that I was !— and now, e'en now. While thus I preach the stoic strain, Unless I shun Olympia's view. An hour unsays it all again. O friend ! — when love directs her eyes. To pierce where every passion lies. Where is the firm, the cautious, or the wise?" The poet seems to have forgotten the manner in which he had ridiculed the lover in former times *; as well as the tone, he had assumed, in his Ode to a friend, unsuccessful in love -|-. * See P. I., B. iii. ITO. t This friend was Mr. Edwabds, whom we shall have LIFE OF AKENSIDE. 49 In his Elegy on Love we are let a little more into the real state of things : '* Too much my heart of beauty's power has known. Too long to love hath reason left her throne ; Too long my genius moum'd his myrtle chain. And three rich years of youth consum'd in rain." To this subject we shall return at a future op- portunity. At present we must turn to a less pleasing one ; that of a friend of Akenside having taken a causeless jealousy against his wife, for some innocent freedoms, in which she had indulged; such as walking, one evening, home from a party occasion, hereafter, to mention in a more particular manner. The state of his mind may be easily conjectured from a sonnet, he addressed to Mr. Wray, on this unfortunate occasion. '' Trust me, dear Wray, not all these three months' pain. Though tedious seems the time in pain to wear; Nor all those restless nights, through which in vain I've sought for kindly sleep to lull my care; Nor all those lonely meals, and meagre fare, Uncheer'd with converse, and a friendly guest, This dose confinement, barr'd from wholesome air. And exercise, of medicines the best. Have sunk my spirits, or my soul oppress'd. Light are thesefwoes, and easy to be borne; If weigh'd with those, which rack'd my tortur'd breast, MHien my fond heart from Am o bet was torn : So true the word of Solomon to find, * ^0 shaft so piercing as the wounded mind.' " E BO LIFE or AKENSlDil. with a gentleman, who offered to escort her, and whom she had known almost from infancy. His name was Thurloe* Akenside^s friend was a gen- tleman, with whom he had become acquainted at Edinburgh ; but whose name I do not remember. This friend, in his distress, did not fail to apply to Akenside for advice ; and the poet, learning how little he had to build his suspicions upon, remonstrated with him strongly on the cruelty of subjecting his family to the consequences of so odious an imputation ; and, as a still farther cau- tion, wrote him an ode against the dangers of sus- picion. The first five stanzas of this ode are very powerful ; and remind us, strongly, of several pas- sages in Othello. " Oh fly ! It 's dire Suspicion'^ mien. And, meditating plagues unseen. The Sorceress hither hends ; Behold her torch in gall imhru'd ^ Behold^her giprment drops with blood Of lovers and of friends. Fly far ! already in your eyes I see a pale suffusion rise ; And soon through every vein. Soon will her secret venom spread. And all your heart, and all your head, Imhihe the potent stain. Urs OF AKENSIDX; 51 Th«n many a demon will she nuae> To vex your (deep, to haunt your ways; While gleams of lost delight Baise the dark tempest of the brain. As lightning shines across the main Through whirlwinds and through night. No more can faith or candour move; But each ingenuous deed of love. Which reason would applaud. Now smiling o*er her dark distress. Fancy, malignant, strives to dress Like injury and fraud. Farewell to virtue's peaceful times ; Soon win you stoop to act the crimes. Which thus you stoop to fear. Guilt follows guilt ; and where the trun Begins with wrongs of such a stain. What horrors form the rear !" The closing stanzas are very l)eautiful : *^ O thou ! whate'ar thy awful name, Whose wisdom our untoward frame With social love restrains; Thou ! who, by fair affection's ties, Giv'st us to doable all our joys. And half disarm our pains; Let universal candour still. Clear as yon heaven-reflecting rill. Preserve my open mind; E 2 52 LIFE OF AKENSIDE. Nor this^ nor that man's crooked ways One sordid doubt within me raise. To injure human kind *•" In 1746, Akenside wrote his ode to the Evening Star ; an ode, which, though it recalls to our me- mory Collins^ Ode to Evening, can never be read without pleasure ; particularly the following stanza : *' Oh I think o'er all this mortal stage, 'Wliat moumfu] scenes arise ; What ruin waits on kingly rage; How often virtue dwells with woe ; How many griefs from knowledge flow ; How swifdy pleasure flies." This stanza calls to our recollection a still more beautiful one in Gray's poem on the Pleasures arising from Vicissitude. '* Still where rosy pleasure leads. See a kindred grief pursue ; Behind the steps that misery treads. Approaching comfort view : * Mr. Alison quotes three stanzas from this ode (vi. vii. ylU.) '^ in which," says he, ** a scene, which is, in general, only heautiful, is rendered strikingly suhlime, from the imagery with which it is connected."— Qf Me Nature of the Emotions of Beauty and Sublimity, p. 19, 20, 21. LIFE OF AKENSIBE. 53 The hues of bliss more brighdy glow. Chastised to sober tints of woe : * And^ blended, form, with artful strife. The strength and harmony of life." In this year Akenside sent a paper, which he had written in imitation of the 81st number of the Tatler, and which he entitled the Table of Mo-> BERN Fame, to Dodsley for insertion in a periodical work, he was then publishing, entitled the Museum, It is a curious and interesting paper ; and I ascribe it to Akenside on the authority of Warton, who, in a note to a passage in Pope ^, characterizes it as a paper of great taste and judgment. THE TABLE OP MODERN FAME. A VISION. " Last nighty after leaving the company^ where I had spent the evenings I took up a volume of the Tatler^ to conclude the day. I happened to light on that admired paper f ^ where the most celebrated personages of anti-* quity are represented at the table of Fame. I was very agreeably amused with the venerable assenihly, and the pleasing manner in which they are introduced ; till I had * See his Edition of Pope^ vol. ii. 83. t No. 81. 54 U FE 0F AtdfiffSnOB. formed my own mind td tMt composure and stillness^ ivliicli is the best preparatire to a happy repose. '' As soon as I fell asleep^ methought I was walkings in an immense plain^ where I met a figure of great dig-* nity^ representing a man in the full vigour of his stge, dothed in a purple garment^ with a rod of silver in his hand. He accosted me: and I learned from his dis- course^ that he had formerly lived upon our earth ; but tliat now he was raised to the enjoyment of that felicity^ which God had appointed for the reward of prudence and virtue^ * I see^' said he^ ' young man^ that you are just returned from the mansion of Ancient Fame ^ and I perceive by your countenance that you have not been thoroughly satisfied with the goddess of the place^ or with the order of that assembly^ over which she pfe-^ sides. You mortals are prone to imagine^ that the smiles of Fame are always bestowed according to the suffrage of Virtue ; but in this you find you are mistaken. If your curiosity incline you to inquire into the manage^ ment of Modern Fame^^ the younger sister^ follow me, and I will conduct you to her abode/ "Immediately he led me to a very spacious build- ing, of a mixed and crude sort of architecture^ where^ though I admired the expensiveness of the materials^ yet the ornaments, methought, were ill designed, and of a vulgar taste; like a clumsy ungrace^l person, dressed out in jewels and embroidery. I was partico* larly disgusted to see among the ancient festoons of flowers, pipes, and musical reeds, which were adjusted to the columns of the temple, mitres, and triple crowns, crosiers, and other ensigns of ecclesiasticEil discipline. LIFE OF AKENSriDE* 55 This building was summnded with an innomeraUe crowd of people; and at each of the spadoos dQon> which opened on every side of it, I observed a tall> ma- jestical woman^ attended with a crowd of figures^ some like men with large volumes in their hands, and others i^sembling the descriptions which poets have given. us of the Musks. These women^ as my conductor informed me, were the guardians or genii of the several nations of the world. The historians and the Muses were for ever flMving from one to anothelv y^t, I observed, that they never visited some of the gates, where the women were almost naked, 6r dressed in turbans and painted fea- thers. '^ We entered the temple : — at the upper end sate the goddess, on a throne of a very uncommon structure. It was composed of different materials, laid up in a beau* tiful architonick manner. I observed, that inHitarv in- .tounents, as .Undards, swords, and pieces of «3ery, most frequently appeared in the architecture; yet I likewise cast my eye on telescopes, rudders, painting pallets, geometrical schemes, and instruments of handi- craft. By the looks and motions of people within the temple^ I guessed that we were come just in time to be present at some great ceremony; for I observed the Muses and historians stepping ever and anon from some or other of the gates, and whispering the goddess, who gave each of them directions, which I coiild not hear. I asked my conductor the purpose of this great pre- paration ; and what meant the twenty thrones which I counted round the temple, and why some of them were quite empty, while others were laid hold of by certain 56 LIFE OF AKfiNSlD£* persons^ who stood behind them^ as if they were waiting for leave to sit down. ' '^ He answered me in the following manner : ^ You are come from the table of Ancient Fame. The goddess there disposed of her honours without reserve or condi- tional change : her youngest sister is not so constant. Once in every century she reviews her assembly, and frequently makes great alterations^ removing her sub- jects from one seat to a lower, or a higher ; admitting strangers^ or entirely excluding her former favourites. To-day is the anniversary of her great establishment : the empty seats formerly belonged to those whom she has now entirely banished from her palace. Those per- sons, whom you see standing behind some of the thrones, have leave to renew their claim ; and if no other candi- dates obtain their place, will continue in the order which formerly belonged to them.* ^^ While he was speaking, the goddess rose from her seat, and commanded the several nations in her pre- sence to introduce their candidates in the order which she had enjoined them. Upon this all the crowd of spectators disappeared^ and the temple was left quite empty. After a short pause, the trumpet of the goddess sounded ; the whole fabric shook ; and my heart was filled with a rapture and astonishment which I never felt before. ^ammediately the temple was crowded again, and from the uppermost gate entered the most beautiful of those divine women, the Genius of Italy. She led in a middle-aged man. in a very plain dress, who held in his hand a mariner's compass. The spectators, whose coun- LIFE OF akenside; 57 tenances expressed the most impatient suspense^ gave a confused acclamation, and I beard at once from a hun- dred mouths the name of Columbus. He advanced towards the goddess, and sat down on the highest placed With an air of ease ; as if that seat had long been fa this day, see another take place of him/ " The trumpet sounded a second time :— ^while I was expecting some other personage from the gates nearest to the goddess, I obiBerved a great hurry at the very lowest end of the temple. A woman, whom I had before taken notice of amcmg those, who appeared almost naked and wild, advanced from her gate in a robe of furs, and other skins, and approached towards the god- dess. The genii at the upper end expressed a mixture of surprise and indignation, that so savage a figure should now dare to step before them. As she drew near, I observed the person whom she conducted; he was a robust man in armour, with his own hair, a black eagle on his breast, and a carpenter's axe in his hand. I knew his habit, and "vnth the crowd pronounced hastily the name of Peteb the Great. He sat down on the second throne, and I could not help applauding the justice of the goddess. *' The third person who appeared was conducted by the representative of Italy, but the moment he set his 08 LIFE OF AKBNSIDE; £)ot within the temple, the Muses and all the attendant powers from the other gates ran up at once to usher him. He seemed between thirty and forty years of age. The lyric, the comic, and the h^oic muse, a winged virgin with a lyre, anothar with a pallet, a third with a chisel and block of marble, and an infinite number of beautiful young figures, did him honour as he passed^ He returned their congratulations with smiles of the bluest oom^ceuce, .and seemed pleased with hia intro^ ductiony chiefly as it secured him such amiable compa- nions. By his "pontifical robes I knew him for Lbo X; '' But our next.penonage was uidiered in a very dif- ferent manner. . He entered from the German gate; a great noise of disputants and logical terms preceded him ; his face had a very bold, eager cast ; his eyes were keen, and bis dress monkish. When he ^eame to mt down, seeing Leo on the throne next abovehim, he fell into a violent rage, and would needs have rose, again. Leo, on the other hand> turned from him with a smile of high, contempt, and begged of the -beautiful powefBi who stood around him, that they would * hide that rude creature from his eyes, and defend his ears with their harmony, £rom the jargon which he. uttered/ '^ I was vexed at his being thrust into so unsuitable a neighbourhood^ and asked my guide, who he was ? ' His name,' said.he, ^is MARTur Lutber. He has done more good to mankind, than most of those, whose inten- tions were the best and most heroic; his character, his views, and passions, were contemptible and hateful. Remember what I told you — ' Fame does not proceed UFB OF AKBNSIDS; 59 en lihe award of wisdom or virttte ; but is g07«med solely by the revolutiona of mortal things*/ ' *^ I was angry and disappointed^ that I had yet seen none of my countrymen, when the tniibpeti sounded, and I beheld a figure entmng from one of the upper gates, with a red cross upon ber shield, leading a venerable man in the decline of life. I remembered the face of SteB IsAAO Newtok* He advanced in a very composed manner, without speaiking a word, ot seeming to take notice of the acclamations, which came from every part of the temple. '^ All eyes were fixed upon him, and all were proud, that they had seen him: yet I observed' a man at the French gate, dressed in a very gaudy, fantastic habit, who repined bitterly, that his place was taken from him^ while the guardian deity of its nation seemed ta be musing upon a thonisand JBchemes how to regain it. * '^ Fame is not determined, nor is it ever determinable, by a right judgment of men and things, A conqueror of kingdoms, who puts thousands to death, and reduces ten times their number to poverty and want, rises so high in fame, that the remotest posterity never mention his name, but with admiration and raptures The generality of the world cannot distinguish acciiratdy between splendour and greatness^ and, therefore, the plurality o£ the voices would^ doubtless, be in favour of military heroes." — Trailer, Nb^ Bh note. *^ The opinions, declared in this paper, are not opinions of characters, but opinions of reputations; the decisions are not with regard to merit, but with regard to fame, and the refusal of the one is no denial of the other." — Ibid^ 60 LIFE OF AKENSIDE. There was a man^ too, wHo advanced impudently from the German gate; and would have driven Newton, by force, from his seat. He was a very odd figure, with a nightcap on his head, a mathematical diagram in one hand, and a bottle of Rhenish in the other. The goddess ordered him to be chastised fcnr a robber, and turned out with in^Etmy. '^ At the next trumpet, the gay lady, whose robes were flowered with lilies, left her favourite, Descartes^ about whom, till that moment, she had been so solicitous^ and turned to introduce a tall, graceful man, who walked along in a full-bottomed wig, with infinite self- applause. When he saw Leo, he made a very oom-> plaisant bow; yet, as Shakspeaire says, he quenched his familiar smile, with an austere regard of control. I suppose it was Louis the Fourteenth, and com- plained to my guide, that such a man should be so honoured. * Have patience,* said he ; ' meet me here a hundred years hence, and you shall see the goddess order him underground, to the house of Evil Fame. At present she must have her way. Look round, and see if you are better satisfied with him, who comes next/ I saw a composed matron-like figure bring in a man in armour, with signs of the highest veneration and grati- tude. * That,' said my conductor, ^ is WiiiLiAM I., Prince of Orange; a name, that must be venerable upon your globe, as long as public virtue is remembered among you ; and of this divine man, I can prophesy^ that he will never lose his place. The youth, who is now entering, will, perhaps, give you more pleasure ; and indeed though his merits and actions are not of so LIFE OF AKENSIDE. 61 high a kind^ yet his Tirtue shone^ perhaps^ in a more severe trials in a course of aninterrupted prosperity ; so that if his times had given him an opportunity^ he was equal to any thing, which can be acted by a man and a soldier.' ^' I looked around^ and beheld^ from the English gate> a young man in armour^ with a spear of ebony^ and beautiful as Raphael or Milton could imagine. ' You neednot^' said I^ ^ tell me who this is: I see the motto of Wales on his shield^ and the sable spear in his hand^ which has rendered the name of Edward^ or of PiiANTAGENBT^ uselcss. All hail! thou blameless ornament of my native country •' I was going on in a kind of enthusiasm^ when my conductor checked me^ and bade me take notice of the next^ who entered. I found a greater noise and disorder^ than I had observed before. Germany and Spain had joined to introduce a coarse^ robust man ; and France endeavoured to place before him a tall^ majestic person, with a crown on his head>' who looked upon his antagonist with an air of reproach and disdain. This was Fbangis I. However^ his opponent got the better^ and took his place ac- cordingly. By the imperial eagle> which he wore on his breast^ I supposed it to be Charles V. At sitting down, he laughed at his adversary-—^ and,' says he, ' if I must have given way, it should never have been to that doubty, romantic knight, my prisoner; but to this great man, who gave me immortality,' pointing to Titian, who stood in the crowd of his attendants. ^' The next person, that entered, was dressed in a morning gown, and ushered in by the Lady of the Red 62 tIFE OF AKBNSIDE. OrosB. He had no 83rmbol nor iasthimeat in his hand '; but shewed a very thoughtful and penetrating connte* nance. He widked up in profound silence, and mad^ no retum> but a look of grave displeasure, to the saluta- tion of his ne3ct neighbour. However, he took very respectfol notice of s6me dt the table ; particularly of Cohimhui and Nemtmu Leo seemed afraid of him ; Luiher made him a very gracious bow, and would have been extnemely intimate DHth him ; but received a cold and forbidding finrwn. By this account of him, the reader will know as well as I did, who saw ^hat passed, that this was Looks. The next entraiwe was made fimm the RaUdn gate, and there appeared a thin, meagre mail, whoBd countenance ejrpressed great pain and de- jection of itpirit, as if he had been worn out by famine imd torture* ^ He lield in his hand a telescope ; and my conductor told ine it was Gai^iIbo, whose &ce retained indelible marks of the blind, brutal, aeal of his ghostly tormentors. **. He sat down by Locke^ who seemed infinitely pleased with his company; and told bim that he had been en- deavouring to cure mankind of that stupid reverence for mffiims and murderers, who masked their inhumanity with the name of religion. '^Afiter the next trampet there was a loi^ pause, and nebody appeared. I heard a great bustle at the German gate. The goddess asked what was the matter. The robust German tutelary made, answer, that she was in" troducing one, who, if useful discoveries could chal- lenge respect in that place, was, perhaps, entitled to the highest seat. Immediately I heard wwda of a very Itf'E OF AK6NSIDE. 63 rough sound. Guttenberg^ Ftt^ty Mentz, Strashurgh! I t^eiir understood that the crowd of Germans^ at that gate;, were disputing which of them should enter as the discoverer of printing. The contest continued a long tisie^ and grew still more violent^ upon whidi the goddess spoke out^ that when they could agree ahout the inventor^ she would frankly allow his claim; but that^ till then^ she would put in his place one> whose merit and whose glory was now unquestionaUy esta^ blished^ aftar as great disputes about it^ as had ever divided her subjects. . • ^' Upon this she made a sign to the red-cross lady> who accordingly introduced a yenerable old man^ whom I did not at aU know. He was attended by a female figure with a patera in her hand^ resembling the ancient figures of SedMs. I was surprised at the sight of an English worthy^ with whom I wie not acquainted ; but my guide informed me^ that his name was Harvey i * and see/ says he> ' how enviously those other tutelar genii regard him ;' pointing to France and Italy, *' The trumpet again sounded^ and the guardian of Italy moved. As soon as she returned^ there was a con-> fused noise of Evil Fame ! and downward with khn I a great herd of priests and monks> and prime ministers^ joined in the cry ; and amongst them there was a young man> with a crown on his head^ who made the loudest noise^ and who assured the goddess of Fame^ that the person coming in was an abandoned profligate^ and that he himself had a much better title to the next vacant seat. " The goddess looked on him with great contempt^ ^' 64 LIFE OF AKENSIDE. and bid him hold his peace^ else she would order him below stairs^ and put him again under his father's tuition. At this he was silent^ and Machiavbl ap« peared. Leo gave him a very familiar look^ as if he waa glad to see him^ and congratulated him upon the honour^ which he had now obtained^ of being seated at the same table with one of the great feimily^ who had been bis old patrons. But Machiavel answered him only with a look of shame^ dislike^ and indignation. The Italian geniua moved again towards the gate^ and returned with two men^ not being able to resolve which of them should enter. These were Tasso and Abiosto. She herself inclined chiefly to the latter ; but the majority of the spectators opposed it, and Tasso took his place. '* At the next trumpet the tutelary of France went out with the assured air^ that was natural to her^ and brought in a tall^ slender man^ in a large wig, with a very fine sneer upon his face. 3he said his name was BoiLEAu; and that nobody could pretend to dispute that place with him. However^ the stately genius of England opposed her. Her remonstrances prevailed, and FoPE took the place^ which Boileau thought be- longed to him. Upon this there arose among the other genii a great clamour against the red-cross lady, mixed with many signs of ridicule and scorn. She asked what they were displeased at, that she should contend so eagerly for her own glory^ and yet so obstinately reject a claim, upon which she might best found it ; and which^ whenever she advanced it, they would all give way to. She turned round, and saw Bacon ready to ejiter, without asking her to conduct him. She looked at him -^^ ^ LIFE OF AKENSIDE. 65 with great dii^st; yet with such an air as a tender mother discovers^ when her favourite child is guilty of some inexcusable fault. She led him in with great reluctance^ and shewed him his place^ the next vacant one below Pope. He stood^ and looked upon it ; and all the spectators seemed ashamed that he had not a higher seat. Locke^ Newton, Harvey, and Machiavel, all cried out to Pope, * Do rise, and give place :' but he took no notice of them^ only he turned his head another way; and I heard him mutter the words, ^ wisest , brightest, meanest,' Upon this Bacon looked around, and drew the eyes of all the assembly. His presence, at that time, had an effect upon them, like the presence of a descended god upon those mortals, whom he favours with his converse. Then raising his head, * Sure I am,' said he, ' that if there be any place belonging to me in this assembly, it must be one, nearest to the goddess ; and one, where I may best avail myself of her power.' '' Immediately the assembly, with one accord, invited him forward ; the goddess beckoning him to draw near ; and seated him on the highest throne. Columbus him- self officiously gave way; telling him ^ that the discovery of a new world was but a slender acquisition of crude materials, to be improved and perfected in that immense world of human knowledge and human power, which he had first discovered, and through which he had taught other mortals to travel with security.* *' The next that entered, was a man in iron armour, with a basket-hilted sword. France, Germany, and Italy turned pale at the sight of him ; and I heard them whisper the name of Gustavus Adolphus. He F 66 LIFE OF AKENSIDE. was followed by a beautifdl youths of a very sweet and gentle aspect. As he drew nearer^ I knew him to be Raphael. Leo heard of his admission with an ex- travagant joy^ and could hardly be restrained firom quitting his place, that he might sit next him. Then appeared a blinds old man^ with the air of an ancient prophet^ supported and led in by the genius of England. When I knew him I was extremely discontented^ that no more honourable place had been reserved for Milton. ' You forget/ said my conductor^ ' that the lowest place in this assembly, is one of twenty^ the most honourable gifts^ which Fame has to bestow among the whole human species. Milton is now admitted for the first time^ and was not^ but ^vith difficulty admitted at all. But have patience for a few years longer : he will be continually ascending in the goddess's favour^ and may, perhaps, at last, obtain the highest, or at least the second place in these her solemnities. In the mean time see how he is received by the man, who is best qualified here to judge of his dignity/ '^ I looked at him again, and saw Raphael making him the most affectionate congratulations, accounting himself happy, that he was seated next to him, and in- sisting on his taking the superior hand. *^ There now remained but one place to be disposed of. The tutelar deity of Spain led in, towards it, a slender man, with black piercing eyes, an aquiline nose, and a swarthy complexion. He had lost one of his hands, by which mark I knew him to be Cervantes. He expected no opposition, as the place had formerly belonged to him; but in this point he was mistaken. 1^ , LIFE OF AKENSID£. 67 For Moliere advanced from the French entrance^ and disputed the chair, with infinite pleasantry and good- humour. Cervantes, however, kept his place ; but while their controversy was hardly yet decided, a third candi- date appeared, with a great shout of clamorous mirth from the whole assembly. They told me, he had brushed in by stealth, and in spite of the grave lady, who con- ducted his countrymen. I knew the arch leer, the nut- brown bays, and the Foppington step of my facetious fnend, CoUey Gibber. But his appearance, his argu- ments, and the eloquence with which he delivered them, quite disjointed the remainder of my dream, and I waked in a very hearty fit of laughter*." It is very remarkable, that in this vision the author should have omitted the greatest of his countrymen, Suakespeaue ; and the more so, since, from several passages in his works, we are left in no doubt as to the manner, in which he ap- preciated that wonderful poet. The year 1746 was rendered, also, interesting to Akenside by his having produced his Hymn to THE Naiads. Johnson superciliously passes over, as unworthy of being read, not only Akenside's odes, but even this truly elegant hymn — a hymn so entirely classical, that we have not one more * Museum, No. xiii. Sept. 13, 1746. f2 68 LIFE OF AKENSIDE. SO in our language ; hence Lloyd, with great pro- priety, in allusion to Homer's hymns, which he had once an intention of translating, says — " They, who would form the justest idea of this sort of composition among the ancients, may be better in- formed, by perusing Dr. Akenside^s most classical Hymn to the Naiads, than from any translation of Homer or Callimachus.^ The beauties of this hymn, the title of which, perhaps, gave birth to Dr. Southey's beautiful Hymn to the Penates, are too numerous and too well known to warrant quotation. The passage beginning with j( Haunt beloved of sylvan powers^ Of nymphs and fauns," &c. &c. seems to be derived from a passage in Lucretius *^ Haec loca capripedes Satyros, nymphasque, tenere Finitumei fingunt : et Faunos esse loquuntur, Quorum," &c. De Rerum NcUura, iv. 584. Or, perhaps, more immediately from Martial : *' Seepe sub hoc madidi luserunt arbore Fauni Terruit et tacitam fistula sera domum ; Dumque fugit solos nocturnum Fana per agros, Saepe sub hac latuit rustica fronde Dryas/' Ep. lib. ix« 69. xii. 11. LIFE OF AKENSIDE. 69 The lines, beginning with '' Thooe powerful strings^ That chann the mind of gods/' &c. illustrative of the effects of sacred music among the gods, is taken from the first Pythian ode of Pindar. The translation is very beautiful. The notes to this poem indicate a considerable share of learning ; and are, no doubt, helps to the unlettered ; but to the learned, I should suppose, they must operate as incumbrances. That, how- ever, in which the poet gives an account of what he intended, in the construction of his hymn •, is very * '^ Cyrene was the native country of Callimachus, whose hymns are the most remarkable example of that mythological passion^ which is assumed in the preceding poem, and have always afforded particular pleasure to the author of it^ by reason of the mysterious solemnity with which they affect the mind. On this account he was induced to attempt somewhat in the same manner, solely by way of exercise ; the manner itself being now almost entirely abandoned in poetry : and as the mere genealogy, or the personal adven- ture, of heathen gods could have been but little interesting to a modem reader, it was, therefore^ thought proper to select some convenient part of the history of nature : and to employ these ancient divinities, as it is probable, they were first employed, to wit, in personifying natural causes, and in representing the mutual agreement or opposition of the cor- poreal and moral powers of the world, which hath been accounted the very highest office of poetry." 70 LIFE OF AKCMSIDE. important; and ought continually to be borne in mind by the critic, as well as by the general reader. Hampstead could not be suited to a man like Akenside. The inhabitants were respectable and rich; but many of them were not only respect- able and rich, but purse-proud, and, therefore, supercilious. They required to be sought; their wives and daughters expected to be escorted and flattered; and their sons to be treated with an air of obligation. It is no diflScult task for an elegant man to flatter beautiful women and cele- brated men ; but to be subservient to those, who are already too vain and supercilious, aiid who assume in proportion as they are flattered and yielded to, is not only beyond the practice, but even beyond the honest patience, of a man enriched by nature and embellished by education *. After residing two • This observation naturally reminds me of the fate of Dr. Sewell, author of a tragedy, entitled Sir f Falter Raleigh, who died at Hampstead in 1726 ; and whose melancholy fate is thus related by Mr. Campbell, author of the Pleasures of Hope: — '^ He was a physician at Hampstead, with very little prac- tice, and chiefly subsisted on the invitations of the neigh- bouring gentlemen, to whom his amiable character made him acceptable ; but at his death not a friend or relative came to commit his remains to the dust. He was buried in the meanest manner, under a hollow tree, that was once part of UFE OF AKENSIBE. 71 years and a half at Hampstead, therefore, Aken- side returned to London, and took up his abode in Bloomsbury-square^ where he continued to live during the remainder of his life. He was now about seven and twenty. ^^ In London,'* says one of his biographers, ** Akenside was well-known as a poet ; — but he had still to make himself known as a physician :'' — and he would have been put to great straits, had not the generous friendship of Mr. Dyson enabled him to preserve the appearance of a gentleman. These two friends seem to have acted strictly in the cha- racter of ancient times ; so well delineated by those writers, to whose works they were so peculiarly de- voted, viz. Plato, Cicero, Plutarch, Marcus Anto- ninus, and Epictetus (in Arrian). Akenside's friend took every opportunity of in- troducing him ; and being a man of fortune and high respectability, the natural consequence was a due appreciation of Akenside's merit, — as a phy- sician and a man of elegance,*— by many persons of superior station. In 1747, having heard a sermon preached, in the boundary of the churchyard of Hampstead. No me- morial was placed over his lemains"^ Specimens of the Poets, V. i. 7S LIFE OF AKENSIDE. which the reverendjdivine declaimed, in a very urgent manner, against Glory, he wrote an ode in opposition to the exhortations of the preacher. Part of this ode must be again quoted ; not only because it instructs us, as to the poet*s opinions on that sub- ject, but because it will serve as a proper introduc- tion to another subject, which seems once to have engaged some portion of his ambition. " Come^ then, tell me, sage divine ! Is it an offence to own That our bosoms e'er incline Toward immortal glory's throne ? For with me, nor pomp, nor pleasure^ Bourbon's might, Braganza's treasure. So can Fancy's dream rejoice. So conciliate Reason's choice. As one approving word of her impartial voice. If to spurn at noble praise Be the passport to thy heav'n, Follow thou these gloomy ways : No such law to me was given. Nor, I trust, shall I deplore me : Faring like my friends before me. Nor an holier place desire. Than Timoleon's arms acquire. And Tully's curule chair, and Milton's golden l3rre.*' TiMOLEON seems to have been, of all others in ancient times, the hero, that most engaged Ake^- LIFE OF AKENSIDE. 73 i^ide^s admiration ; and he extended that admiration even so far, as to have meditated the writing an epic poem, of which that illustrious patriot should be the hero. This project he alludes to in the last stanza of his ode on Lyric Poetry. ^' But when from envy and from death to claim A hero bleeding for his native land^ When to throw incense on the vestaFs flame Of liberty my genius gives command^ Nor Theban voice, nor Lesbian lyre From thee, O muse ! do 1 require^ While my presaging mind. Conscious of powers she never knew, Astonish'd grasps at things beyond her view. Nor by another's fate submits to be confined." Akenside told Warton *, that he alluded, in the last line, to the Leonidas of Glover, which he looked upon as a failure. Pope had once the same design ; and the same subject had also been proposed by Lord Melcombe to the author of the Seasons. Why Pope dropped his intention does not appear ; the reasons of Thom- son are thus stated in a letter to Lord Melcombe -(-• " If any thing could make me capable of an epic performance, it would be your favourable opinion in thinking so. But (as you justly observe) that must * VVartQn*6 Pope, ii. 73. Ed. 1797. t Oct. 24, 1730. 74 LIFE OF AKENSIDE. be the work of years, and one must be in an epic situation to execute it. My heart both trembles with diffidence and burns with ardour at the thought. The story of Timoleon is good as to the subject matter : but an author owes, I think^ the scene of an epic action to his own country; besides, Timoleon admits of no machinery ; except that of the heathen gods, which will not do at this time of day. I hope hereafter to have the direction of your taste in these affairs ; and in the meantime will endeavour to ex- pand those ideas and sentiments, and in some de- gree to gather up that knowledge, which is neces- sary to such an undertaking.'' Why Akenside did not prosecute the design he meditated, we have now no means of ascertaining. Perhaps, he considered the difficulty of the sub- ject; or he might feel some reluctance to engage further in pursuits, that might obstruct the prac- tice he was solicitous, at this time, to obtain. This, I think, may be inferred from a passage in his Ode to Sleep. *' Oh let me not alone complain. Alone invoke thy power in vain ! Descend, propitious, on my eyes ; Not from the couch, that hears a crown. Not from the courtly statesman's down. Nor where the miser and his treasure lies : LIFE OF AKENSIDE. 75 Bring not the shapes^ that hreak the murderer's rest. Nor those, the hireling soldier loves to see^ Nor those which haunt the bigot's gloomy breast ; Far be their guilty nights, and far their dreams from me. Nor yet their awful forms present. For chiefs and heroes only meant ; The figured brass, the choral song, The rescued people's glad applause. The listening senate, and the laws, Fixd by the counsels of Timoleons tongue. Are scenes too grand for Fortune's privaie ways ; And though they shine in youth's ingenuous view. The sober, gainful, arts of modem days To such romantic thoughts have bid a long adieu." . Akenside had been admitted, by mandamus, to a doctor'^s degree at Cambridge ; he became a fellow of the Royal Society ; and was elected a fellow of the Royal College of Physicians. Mr. Dyson, on the other hand, had entered himself at one of the Inns of Court, and been called to the bar. But in the early part of this year (1747), hearing that Mr. Hardinge had the intention of retiring from the clerkship of the House of Commons, he entered into a treaty with that gentleman, and purchased the situation for six thousand pounds. And here I cannot deny myself the pleasure of citing a very striking characteristic of Mr. Dyson, from HatselFs 76 LIFE OF AKENSIDE. Precedents of the Proceedings of the House of Commons. On the 15th of February Mr. Dyson took his seat at the table *. " By virtue of his office,'' says Mr. Hatsell, " the clerk has not only the right of ap- pointing a deputy to officiate in his stead, but has the nomination of the clerk assistant, and all the other clerks without doors. Formerly the appoint- ment to these offices made a considerable part of the clerk's income, as it was the usual practice to sell them. But when Mr. Dyson came to the office of clerk, (though he had purchased this of Mr. Hardinge for no less a sum than six thousand pounds,) he, with a generosity peculiar to himself, and from a regard to the House of Commons, that the several under-clerkships might be more pro- perly filled, than they probably would be, if they were sold to the highest bidder, first refused this • " On the 10th of February, 1747, the Speaker acquaints the House of Commons with a letter he had received from Nicholas Hardinge, Esq. clerk, in which he informs him^ that he had resigned the office ; — Mr. Speaker also acquaints the House, that his Majesty will in a few days appoint another person to succeed Mr. Hardinge; and on the 15th of February, Mr. Dyson being appointed, is called in, and takes his seat at the table " —HatseW t PrecedenU of the Pro* ceedings of the' House of Commons, vol. ii. 253. 4ta LIFE OF AKENSIDE. 77 advantage; and appointed all the clerks, whose offices became vacant in his time, without any pe- cuniary consideration whatever. I was the first that experienced the effect of this generosity, as clerk-assistant ; to which office I was appointed by Mr. Dyson *, not only without any gratuity on my part, but, indeed, without his having had any per* sonal knowledge of me, till I was introduced to him by Dr. Akenside ; and recommended by him as a person, that might be proper to succeed Mr. Reid, then just dead, as clerk-assistant. This office, at the time I received it from Mr. Dyson, * gratis,* he might have disposed of, and not to an improper person, or one unacquainted with the business of the House of Commons, for 3000/. Mr. Dyson's successors, i. e. Mr. Tyrwhitt and myself, have thought ourselves obliged to follow the example which he set ; but it is one thing to be the first to refuse a considerable and legal profit, and another, not to resume a practice that has been so honour* ably abolished by a predecessor -f-." The resignation of Mr. Hardinge having intro- duced Mr. Dyson to that gantleman^ Akenside * May 10, 1760. t Hatsell's Precedents of the House of Commons, vol. ii. 257. 4to. 78 LIFE OF AKENSIDE. became acquainted with him; and that acquaint- ance became an introduction to Dr. Hardinge, his brother; and laid a foundation for a regard for Mr. Hardinge^s son, the late Honourable George Hardinge, many years judge upon the Presteign, Brecon, and Cardiff circuit;— to whom Akenside wrote a letter of advice and directions for the course of his academical studies, which, Mr. Justice Har- dinge says *, « formed the most ingenious and mas- terly work that ever that arduous topic has pro- duced.^^ Such having been the case, it is a subject of great regret, that this letter should have been irrecoverably lost. Akenside, I believe, agreed witb Cardinal Fleury in the opinion, that children should be educated in apartments looking into a garden, or shrubbery, in order that study niight be assodated with agreeable impressions. Dr. Hardinge v/as physician extraordinary to the king. He was bom at KingVNewton in the county of Derby, and died at Mansfield in 1776. " He was a man of singular habits and whims,*' says his nephew, in a letter to Mr. Nichols; ** but of infinite humour and wit. He was an admirable scholar ; and if he had been uniformly attentive to • Nichols' Anecdotes. LIFE OF AKENSIDE. 79 the duties of his profession^ would have acquired the first rank in it. In medical sagacity and learning he had few, if any, superiors. His conversation was coveted by the most accomplished wits and scholars of his age. He was a man of perfect ho- nour, and a more benevolent spirit never breathed. His passion for coursing was one of his most pro- minent characteristics; but like all the rest, he made it the source of infinite amusement to his friends. He was a comic tyrant over them all; and I shall never forget an evening of civil war, and another of peace, between these two physicians. Dr. Akenside was the guest ; and at supper, by a whimsical accident^ they fell into a dispute upon the subject of a bilious colic. They were both of them absurdly eager. Dr. Hardinge had a contempt for every physician but himself ; and he held the poet very cheap in that line. He laughed at him, and said the rudest things to him. The other, who never took a jest in good part, flamed into invective; and Mrs. Hardinge, as clever in a different way as either, could with difliculty keep the peace with either of them. Dr. Akenside ordered his chariot, and swore, that he would never come into the house again. The other, who was the kindest-hearted 80 LIFE OF AKENSIDE, of men^ the next morning, and in a manner quite his own, made a perfect reconcilement, which ter* minated in a pacific supper, the following night ; when, by a powerful stroke of humour, the host convulsed the sides of his guest with laughter, and they were in delightful unison together, the whole evening. ^ Do you kn-kn-know. Doctor,' said he, (for he stammered )y * that I have b-bought a curious pamphlet, this m-moming upon a st-stall, and 1 11 give you the t-title of it ; an acc-count of a curious dispute between D-Dr. Y. and D-Dr. Z , concerning a b-b-bilious c-colic, which brought on a d-duel between the two ph-physicians, which t-ter- minated in the d-death of both.' " Shortly after this, Akenside wrote an Ode to his humorous opponent. This ode is not very interest- ing ; bat the last stanza points to the ambition, to which the mind of the poet was in perpetual direc- tion. *' () versed in all the human frame ! Lead thou where'er my labour lies, And English fancy's eager flame To Grecian purity chastise ; While^ hand in hand, at wisdom s shrine^ Beauty with truth I strive to join. LIFE OP AKENSIDE. 6l' And grave assent with glad applause, To paint the story of the soul^ And Plato's visions to control By Verulamian* laws." Akenside was particularly partial to inscriptive writing. Mr. Meyrick had two of liis copying ; and very beautiful ones they are : *' VIBIA . PHRVNE . VIXIT . TEB . 8EN0S . ANNOS GARA . MEIS . VIX8I . SVBITO . FAT ALE . BAPIN A FLOHENTEM . VITA . SV8TVLIT . ATRA . DIES HOC . TVMVIiO . NVNC . SVM . CINERES . SIMVL . NAMQVE. . 8A- CRATI PER . MATREM . CARAM . SVNT . POSITIQVE . MEI QVOS . PIVS . &£PE . COLIT . FRATER . CONIVNXQVE . PVELL^ ATQVB . OBITVM . N08TRVM . FLBTIBVS . USQUE . FLVVNT DI . MANES . ME . UN AM . RETINETE . UT . VIVERE . POSSINT QVOS . SEMPER . COLUI . VIVA . LIBENTE . ANIMO UT . SINT . QVI . CINERES . NOSTROS . BENE . FL0RIBU8 . SERTIS SAFE . ORNENT . DIOAT . SIT . MIHI . TERRA . LEVIS." " FIRMA EPAPHRODITA. Ann. xxviii. FIRMA . SATIS . FELIX . CUM . ME . MEA . VITA . MANERET OONJUOIS . OBSEQUIO . CUM . PIETATE . FUI OONJUOIS . ILLIUS . QUEM . VIX . ACQUARE . MARITI ADFECTU . POTERUNT . AUT . BONITATE . PARI * *' Verulam gave one of his titles to Francis Bacon^ author of the Novum Organum."— i^. G 8S tIFE OF AKENSIDE. OONLITBBTOBUM . VULTUB . AMIM06QUB . MEOBVH PLACAT06 . MEBUI . 8EDI7LITATB . HEA PLAOATOS . MEBUI . PEB . TB . MA6IS . OMNIS . UT . AIiTAS BANOUINE . ME . JUNOTAH • OBEI>BBBT . ESSE . SIBI QUI . TECUM . PIA . 0A8TBA . 8EQUI . OONSUIiTUS . BT . ILLS QUEM . LEX . SEBYITn . DI8TBAHIT . A . DOMINO HOS . OMNES . TIBI . PBO . MEBITIS . QUI . SIDEBA . TOBQUBNT SECUM . PLACATOS . SEMPEB . HABEBE . YELINT." At what periods Akenside's inscriptions were written, can only be gathered from the insertion of them in Dodsley's collection. They have been very much admired. That on King William exhibits a pure and classical taste : that for a statue of Chaucer has a passage of great propriety and dignity * ; that for a column at Runnymede is in the best style of simplicity; while the one, com- memorative of our great dramatic bard, is, perhaps, the finest specimen of inscriptive poetry in the English language. That, beginning with Whoe'er thou art, whose path in summer lies Through yonder village," that might help to settle our comparative esteem of the greater Poets in the several polite languages. But as I have never seen nor heard of any such design, I have here attemptpd it myself, according to the best informa- tion which my private taste could afford me. I shall be extremely glad, if any of your ingenious corre- spondents will correct me where I am wrong ; and in the meantime shall explain the general foundations of my scheme, where it differs from that of the French author. For he has not taken in a sufficient number of articles to form a complete judgment of the art of paint- ing ; and though he had, yet poetry requires many more. LIFE OF AKENSIDE. 95 I shall retain his numbers^ and suppose twenty to be the degree of absolute perfection^ and eighteen the highest, that any poet has attained. His first article is Composition; in which his ba- lance is quite equivocal and uncertain. For there are^ in paintings two sorts of composition, utterly different from each other. One relates to the eye, the other to the passions: so that the former may be not improperly styled picturesque composition, and is concerned only with such a disposition of the figures, as may render the whole group of the picture entire and well united ; the latter is concerned with such attitudes and connexions of the figures, as may effectually touch the passions of the spectator. There are^ in poetry, two analogous kinds of composition or ordonnance ; one of which belongs to the general plan or structure of the work, and is an object of the cool judgment of a connoisseur; the other relates to the most striking situations, and the most moving incidents. And though these are most strictly connected in truth and in the principles of art, yet, in fact, we see them very frequently disjoined ; and they depend indeed on different powers of the mind. Sir Richard Blackmore, a name for contempt, or for oblivion, in the* commonwealth of poetry, had more of the former than Shakespeare ; who had more of the latter than any man, that ever lived. The former we shall call Critical Ordonnance, the latter Pathetic; and 'these make the two first columns of our balance. It may, perhaps, be necessary to observe here, thai though, literally speaking, these two articles relate only to epic and dramatic poetry ; yet we shall apply them 96 LIFE OF AKENSIDE. to every other species. For in lyric poetry, in satire> in comedy, in the ethical epistle, one author may excel another in the general plan and disposition of his work ; and yet fall short of him in the arguments, allusions, and other circumstances, which he employs to move his reader, and to obtain the end of his particular com- position. Our next article answers to that which Monsieur de Files calls Expression ; but this, likewise^ in poetry, requires two columns. Painting represents only a single instant of time ; consequently it expresses only a present passion, without giving any idea of the general character or turn of mind. . For poetry expresses this part as well as the other ; and the same poet is not equally excellent in both. Homer far surpasses Virgil in the general de- lineation of characters and manners ; but there are, in Virgil, some expressions of particular passions, greatly superior to any in Homer. I shall, therefore, divide this head of expression, and call the former Dramatic Expression, and the latter Incidental. Our next article answers to what the painters call Design, or the purity, beauty, and grandeur of the outline in drawing ; to which the taste of beauty in de- scription, and the truth of expression, are analogous in poetry. But as the term design, except among painters, is generally supposed to mean the general plan and con- trivance of a work, I shall therefore omit it, to prevent mistakes; and substitute instead of it, the Truth qf Taste, by which to distinguish the fifth column. And indeed, this article would likewise admit of several subdivisions ; for some poets are excellent for the grandeur of their /* LIFE OF AKENSIDE« 9? taste^' others for its beauty^ and others for a kind of neatness. But they may all be ranged under the same Lead ; as Michael Anoelo^ Raphael, and Poussin, are all characterised from their design. The truth of taste will, caeteris paribus, belong to the first in the highest degree ; but we must always remember, that there can be no greatness without justness and decorum ; which is the reason that Raphael is counted higher in design than Michael Angelo. For though this latter had a grandeur and more masculine taste^ yet Raphael, with a truly grand one^ was incomparably more correct and true. It is not easy to assign that part of poetry, whicli answers to the colouring of a painter. A viery good judge of painting calls the colouriko the procuress of her sister. Design ; who gains admirers fyr her, that otherwise might not^ perhaps, be captivated with her charms^ If we trace this idea through poetry, we shall, pei;haps> determine poetical colouring to be such a general choice of words, such an order of grammatical construction, and such a movement and turn of the verse, as are most favourable to the poet's invention, ^distinct from the ideas which those words convey. For whoever has reflected much on the pleasure whidi poetry communicates, will recollect many words which, taken singly, excite very similar ideas ; but which have very different effects, according to their situation and connexion in a period. It is impossible to read Virgil, but especially Milton, without making this observation a thousand times. The sixth column of the balance shall, therefore, be named from this poetical colouring. H 96 LIFE OF AKENSIDE. Ab for VERSIFICATION, its greatest inerit is always proTided for by the last article ; but as it would seem strange to many, should we entirely omit it; the seventh column shall, therefore, be allotted for it as far as it relates to the mere harmony of sound* The eighth article belongs to the Moral of the several poets, or to the truth and merit of the sentiments which they express, or the dispositions which they in^- culcate with respect to religion, dvil society, or private life. The reader must not be surprised, if he find th^ heathen poets not so much degraded, as he might expect in this particular ; for though their representations of Divine Providence be so absurd and shocking, yet this article is intended to diaracterise the comparative goodness of thedr moral intention, and not the compara- tive soundness of their speculative opinions. Where Utile is given, little is required. The ninth and last column contains an Estim ats of their comparative value and eminence up 1 10 • 'Si 13 15 16 Boileau . • 18 16 12 14 17 14 13 16 12 Cervantes . 17 17 15 17 12 16 —. ^ 16 14 Comeille . 16 16 16 16 16 14 12 16 14 Dante • • 12 15 8 17 12 15 14 14 13 Euripides . 15 16 14 17 13 14 — 15 12 Homer • - 18 17 18 15 16 16 18 17 18 Horace . • 12 12 10 16 17 17 16 14 13 Lucretius . 14 5 — 17 17 14 16 10 Milton . . 17 15 15 17 18 18 17 18 17 Moliere 15 17 17 17 15 16 — i 16 14 Pindar . • 10 10 17 17 16 — 17 13 Pope . * 16 17 12 17 16 15 15 17 13 Racine * . 17 16 15 15 17 13 12 15 13 Shakspeare — 18 18 18 10 17 10 18 18 Sophocles . 18 16 15 15 16 14 — 16 13 6penser • • Tasso . . a 15 10 16 17 17 17 17 14 17 14 14 13 12 13 16 13 12 Terence 18 12 10 12 17 14 -^~ 16 10 Viipl • . 17 10 17 17 18 17 17 17 16 h2 100 LIFE 6F AKfiNSlD^. The estimate stands thus : : ^ CRITICAL OBDONNANCf. ^irH Class* * Horner^ Sophocles^ Terence^ Boileau. Second . Viigil^ Tasso^ Milton^ Racine. Third \ Pope. Fourth « Euripides^ Coraeillc. Fifth . Lucretius. Sixth Horace, Dante. Seventh . Pindar. Eighth . Spenser. Ariosto and Shakspeare disdained critical ordon- nances. PATHETIC OBDONNANCE. First Class, Shakspeare. Second , Homer. Third • Sophocles^ Euripides^ Comeille^ Racine. Fourth • Dante^ Ariosto, Spenser, Milton. Fifth . Tasso. Sixth . Terence, Horace. Seventh . Pindar, Virgil. DRAMATIC EXPRESSION. First Class. Homer and Shakspeare. Second . Virgil. Third . Comeille. $ Fourth . Sophocles, Milton, Racine. * The reader is requested to ohserve, that each poet is . placed in the following summaries, according to the only order the author's arrangement admits of, viz. a chronological • one. I>IFE OF AKEN3IDE. 101 Fifth . Euripides^ Tasso. Sixth Boileau^ Pope. Seventh ^ Terence^ Horace, Ariosto, Spenser. INCIDENTAL EXFBE8SI0N. First Class. Shakspeare. Second Euripides, Pindar, Lucretius, Virgil, l>ante. Milton, Pope. Third . Horace, Spenser, Corneille. Fourth . Homer, Sophocles, Ariosto, Racine. Fifth . Boileau. Sixth Tasso. Seventh . Terence. TASTE. First Class. Virgil, Milton. Second . Pindar, Terence, Lucretius, Horace, Spenser, Boileau, Racine. Third . Homer, Sophocles, Corneille, Pope. Fourth . Ariosto. Fifth . Euripides. Sixth Dante and Tassa Seventh . Shakspeare. COLOURING. First Class. Milton. Second . Virgil, Horace, Shakspeare, Spenser. Third . Homer, Pindar. Fourth • Dante, Ariosto, Pope. . Fifth . Euripides, Sophocles, Terence, Lucretius, Cor- neille, Boileau. Sixth . Tasso, Racine. 102 LIFE OF AKENSIBE^ ▼ERUFICATIOK* First Class, HomeTr Second . Virgil, Spenser, Milton* Third . Lucretius, Horace, Tasso, Ariosto. Fourth . Pope, Fifth . Dante. Sixth . Boileau. Seventh . Corneille, Racine* Eighth . Shakspeare. Sophocles, Euripides, Pindar, and Terence are not minur bered. MORAL. First Class. Shakspeare, Milton. Second Homer, Pindar, Virgil, Spenser, Pope. Third . Sophocles, Terence, Corneille, Boileau. Fourth . Euripides, Racine. Fifth Horace, Dante. Sixth Tasso. Seventh • Ariosto. FINAL ESTIMATE. First Class. Homer, Shakspeare. Second . Milton*. * He pays a fine compliment to Milton in his Ode to the ' Eabl of Huntingdon. I " Mark, how the dread Pantheon Btand», ^ Amid the domes of modem hands : Amid the toys of idle state. How simply, how severely great ! LIFE OF AKENSIOE. 103 Third . VirgU. Fourth • Corneille^ Spenser. Fifth . Pindar, Sophocles, Horace, Dante, Ariosto, Racine, Pope. Sixth • Euripides, Tasso*, Boileau. Seventh • Terence, Lucretius. Then turn, and, while each western clime Presents her tuneful sons to time. So mark thou Milton's name; And add, * Thus differs from the throng The spirit, whieh informed thy awful song, JVhich bade thy potent voice protect thy cotmirysfame\.** * This low appreciation of Tasso corresponds with a passage in the second hook of his poem on the Imagination : " Thus from their guardians torn, the tender arts Of mimic fancy and harmonious joy. To priestly domination and the lust Of lawless courts, their amiahle toil. For three inglorious ages, have resign'd In vain reluctant : arid TorqutUo's tongue Was tuned for slavish pasans at the throne Of tinsel pomp," '* A lucky word," says Bishop Hurd, in his Letters on Chivalry and Romance, '* which sounds well, and every hody gets by heart, goes farther than a volume of just criticism. In short, the exact, but cold, Boileau happened to say some- t Alluding to the defence of the people of England against Salmasius. 101* LIFE OF akenside; We may now quote two fragments from the pages of Dr. Warton, illustrative of Akenside's thing of the clinquant of Tasso : and the magic of .this word« like the report of Astolfo's horn in Ariosto^ overturned at once the solid and well-built reputation of the Italian poetry. " It is not^ perhaps^ strange^ that this potent word should do its business in France. What was less to be expected^ it put us into a fright on this side the water. Mr. Addison^ who gave the law in taste here^ took it up, and sent it about the kingdom in his ]^<4ICe and popular Essays *. It became a sort of watchword among the critics ; and> on the sudden^ nothing was heard^ on all sides^ but the clinquant of Tasso." It is curious to observe the presumption of some men, even eminent men — as Boileau must certainly be allowed to have been ; though not a great one. M affei lets out a secret, in respect to him ; for he assures us, that Racine's elder son told him, that Boileau had not only never read Tasso, but that he knew scarcely one word of Italian. I cannot but say, that I think Akenside was in some degree deficient in that language also. Had he dipt deeply into that holy fountain, he woidd, perhaps, in common with Milton, have discovered that Tasso's metal was not tinsel, but solid gold. ' He would, also, I think, out of regard to so excellent a man, and so lofty a genius, have passed over that part of the poet's life, wherein *^ his poverty, rather than his will," consented. ^' Pardone" said he, in a letter to a friend, *' a me quest ardimento di lodar me stesso, poich^ to agevol* mente io perdonata Vimportunita d^aver lodati molti contra mia voglia, e contra il proprio giudicio" * Spectator, vol. i. No. 5. ; vol. v. No. 369. UF£ OF AKENSIDF. 105 opinions in regard to correctness of writing ; and the inadequacy of the French language to the ex« pression of poetical ideas. Warton seems to have quoted from the conversation of Akenside. At least, I do not recollect in what book or paper, except in his edition of Pope, the following senti- ments are to be found. '* 'Tis hard/' said Akenside^ *' to conceive by what means the French acquired the character of superior correctness. We have classic authors in English, older than in any modem language, except the Italian ; and Spenser and Sidney wrote with the truest taste, when the French had not one great poet they can hear to read. Milton and Chapelin were contemporaries ; the Pucelle In a book, printed in black-letter, 1588, entitled The Householders Philosophie, and said to be translated from the Italian of that '' excellent orator and poet, Sionior Ton- QUATO Tasso," we have these words: — ** Mans are 0erbaiit0 t»c fortune, tl^at are free Iiq nature. HxCti a is not to lie marbatllelr at t^at mans eruell eonHicts anil traungerous toarres are eauseH anlr eontinueli iis ^ejO at tl^ese. f^otobett it i« a great argument of baseness, ttat seruile fortune ean engenlier seruile euils in a gentle xxiviti**' Fol. 15. This book I take to be an imposition. I see nothing, as- similating with the subject, in any of the general collections pf Tasso's works y but the coincidence of sentiment is re- markable. 106 tiFE OF AKENStDE* and Paradise Lost were in hand> perhaps frequently^ at the self-same honr. One of them was executed in snch # manner, that an Athenian of Menander's age would jjiave turned his eyes from the Minerra of Phidias, or the Venus of Apelles, to obtain more perfect conceptions of beauty from the English poet; the other, though fostered by the French court for twenty years with the utmost indulgence, does honour to the Leonine and the Runic poetry. It was too great an attention to French criticism, that hindered her poets^ in Charles the Se« nd's time, from comprehending the genius and ac- knowledging the authority of Milton; else, without Rooking abroad, they might have acquired a manner more correct and perfect^ than French authors could, or can teach them." *' Were I a Frenchman," said Akenside, " con- cerned for the poetical glory of my country, I should lament its unmusical language, and the impossibility of forming it to numbers or harmony. The French ode is an uncertain mixture of different feet, changing at random the rhythmus or movement of the verse, and dis- appointing one's ear, just as if a dancer in the midst of a minuet should fall a capering in the harlequin step, or break out into a Lancashire hornpipe. Their Alexan- drine measure, which they call heroic, has its pause or caesura in every line in the same place; so that two hammers make just as much music as Racine or Boileau* If this be without remedy in the French language, their language is very unfortunate for Poetry ; but it is LIFE OF AKSNSIDC. 107 diverting to hear these finished critics and masters *of correctness raining themselves upon this wretched^ un* musical poverty in their verse^ and blaming the licen-r tiousness of English poetry ; because it allows a variation of the pause^ and a suspension of the period from one verse into any part of another ; without which poetry has less harmony than prose." We may now introduce Akenside^s confession of the love and admiration, he always entertained for Greek learning, manners, and sentiments ; and, for the greater variety, we shall adopt the version of the Italian translator. '^ Genio di Grecia^ se non tardo i' tenni L'orme tue fide sul difficil calle Di Natura^ e Scienza alme nudrici De' bei desiri, e dell' eroiche gesta ; Fa che nell' aura di tua lode il mio Petto s' infiammi ad ad^uar 1' eccelso Non tentato argomento ; e non fia mai, Che di baldanza alcun m' accusi e adontf, Se neir ore tranquille d'una sera^ Cui pinge April di lusinghevol riso^ Fuggo sdegnoso il sordido ricetto Di vile ambizion^ del garrir vano, Impaziente di seguirti, o sacro Nume^ per le silvestri ombre romite Dal loro infesto pie non tocche ancont. Scendi, O Genio propizto," &c. Mazza, I. 72U 108 LIFE OF AKENSIDE. Akenside seems to have been a great frietid to Dodsley's Miscellany; for he occasionally recom- mended papers for insertion in it. Among those, thus recommended, was Welsted^s Ode on the Duke of Marlborough *. Welsted was an acquaintance of Akenside; but in what estimation he was held, we are not informed. He had a place in the Ordnance office, and a house in the Tower. His great patron was the Dukq of Newcastle, and Warburton asserts, that he re^r ceived five hundred pounds from the secret service fund for writing anonymously in behalf of the ministry, of which his grace was a member. He was author of a comedy, acted in 1726 in Lincoln V Inn-Fields, with some success, entitled " The Dissembled Woman; or^ My Son get Money f."*^ He wrote, also, in early life, a satire against Pope, called " The Triumvirate;" for which that poet punished him with a parody in the Dunciad. " Flow, Welsted, flow ! like thine inspirer. Beer, Though stale, not ripe; though thin, yet never clear; * Warton. t This comedy is supposed to be alluded to in fno. 182 of the Tatler. LITE OF AKENSIDE. 109 'So Bweetly mawkish^ and so smoothly dull ; . Heady^ not strong ; o'erflowing^ though not fall *." * Danciad, III. 169. Pope names him also in his Pro- line to the Satires : " Three thousand suns went down on Welsted's lie." '^This man had the impudence to tell in prints that Mr. P. had occasioned a lady's death, and to name a person, he never heard of. He also puhlished, that he lihelled the 'Duke of Chandos; with whom (it was added) that he lived In familiarity, and received from him a present of Jive hunr dred pcninds: the falsehood of hoth which is known to his grace. Mr. P. never received any present^ farther than the suhscription for Homer, from him, or from any great man whatever." — P. Welsted puhlished a translation of Longinus' treatise '^ On the Suhlime." He gave out, that he translated it from the Greek ; hut the fact was, it was. no other than a translation from the French of Boileau. He dedicated it to the Bishop of Winchester. He was, also, author of a hook (which he inscrihed to the Duke of Chandos,) entitled *' The Scheme and Conduct of Providence*' This consists of ohservations on that law of the decalogue, which threatens punishment to sons for the crimes of their fathers. As a poet, he had some reputation in his day. The fol« lowing specimen is from his Sum mum Bonum. To his great chiefs the conqueror Pyrrmus spoke, ** Two moons shall wane, and Greece shall own our yoke." '* 'Tie well," replied the friend : " admit it so, What next r « Why next to Italy 1 11 go. 110 LinS 0F AKEHSIDE, In 1749, a company of French Comedians "were acting in London by subscription. A part of the public were very indignant at this circumstance; and Akenside partook of it. But to refuse to listen to the French Drama, because France is our rivals were not only unjust and impolitic ; but absurd, and even ridicuk)us. Akenside^ however, thought other- wise; and, in consequence, wrote what he called the Remonstrance of Shakspeare. As a whole, it isy perhaps, unwcnrthy of the author''s genius ; but there is some point in the lines, in which he cha- racterizes the French Drama. '^ Say, does your humble admiration choose The gentle prattle of her comic muse; While wits, plain-dealers, fops, and fools, appear. Charged to say nought but what the king may hear > Or rather, melts your sympathizing hearts. Won by her tragic scenes' romantic arts. Where old and young declaim on soft desire. And heroes never but for love expire?" A.nd Rome in ashes lay." " What after thatr *' Waste India's realms." "What thenT **Then sit and chat; Then quaff the grape, and mirthful stories tell." Sir, you may do so now, and full as well." «( Welsted died in 1 747. UFE DP AKBIf SIDG. Ill In 1750, Akenside wrote an Ode to William Hall, Esa of the Middle Temple. Mr. Hall was an intimate friend of Markland, who inscribed to him his Qtuesiio Grammaika, He ranked, also, among his friends, Lord Jersey, Lord Clarendon, Lord Hampden, and the first Lord Camden. His manners partook of the society he had kept; he had a good person, and a pleasing countenance. He was, besides, a man not only gifted with a fine taste in subjects of art and literature ; but he was a poet of no mean order. His translation from Anacreon* is universally known; and the follow- ing sonnet to Mr. Nicholas Hardinge, on the first impression of Lauder^s Forgeries, reminds us oi several sonnets, written by the poet, that he cele- brates. '^ Hardikge t ! firm advocate of Milton's fame ! Av€nge the honour of hifi injured muse ! The bold Salmasius dared not bo accuse, And l»:and him, liying^ with a felon s name ! * In the dead of the nighty when with labour opprest. All mortals enjoy the sweet blessings of rest, A boy knock*d at my door, &c. &c. t Mr. Nicholas Hardinge was a very able critic, and was the first who gave the true reading in a remarkable passagi^ 112 LIFE OF AKENSIDE; Arch-forger^ cursed poison to infuse In Eve's chaste ear, her freedom to ahusei That lurking fiend> — Ithuriel's arm and flame, ^therial gifts detected: but this plot Thou hast an arm^ and spear, that can expose; With lashes keen, drive, to that traitorous spot. The nurse of base impostors, to his snows. And barren mountains, the blaspheming Scot I" in one of Horace's Odes. Dr. Bentley was struck with it, and passed s, very high but singular commendation of it, characteristic Of his own pedantry and wit A whimsical appeal was made to him, when he was clerk of the House of Commons : Pulteney and Sir Robert Walpble were squab- bling; end the former playfully told the latter, that his Latin was as l)ad as his politics. He had quoted a line from Horace •, and Pulteney insisted that he bad misquoted it. The other would not give it up* A guinea was ]aid> and Mr. Hardinge was the arbiter ; who rose with a very droU solemnity, and gave it against his own patron. Sir Roberta The guinea was thrown across the house, which Pulteney took up, saying, it was ** the jfirst public money that he hctd touched for a long time," He had formerly been in office. It should be added, to make the anecdote com- plete, that at Pulteney's death, the individual guinea was found, wrapped up in a piece of paper, with a memorandum upon it, recording the circumstance.— iViwAo/*. ''^ His mums aheneus esto Nil conscire sibi, nulla pallescere culpdl ^ir Robert repeated it, '^ nuUi pallescere culpas**^ LIFE OP AKENSIDE. 113 In spite, however, of all the elegances, by which Mr. Hall was distinguished, there was one passion, to which he was most culpably devoted — the love of women : and it was this passion, that, induced Akenside to address him with an ode, accompanied with the poems of de Chaulieu, whom he seems to have, in some respects, resembled*. * The Abb^ de Chaulieu was born at his father's seat at Fontenai, in the Vexen-Normand^ in 1639. An excellent education, joined with quick natural parts^ and an easy gaiety of disposition, soon rendered him the delight of ele- gant society^ and in particular gained him the friendship of the great Duke of Vendome, and his brother, the grand- prior of Malta. They treated him with familiarity, and gave him the management of their affairs, which they repaid with several benefices of considerable value. He, also, possessed the Lordship of Fontenai ; so that he was enabled to follow at his ease the pleasurable life, to which he was addicted. His apartments at the Temple, in Paris, were the resort of a society of lettered friends, whom he charmed by the liveli- ness of bis conversation, and the amiable qualities of his heart. The poetry, by which Chaulieu distinguished himself, is a mixture of the voluptuous and sentimental, partaking of the gaiety of Anacreon, and the philosophical good-humour of Horace. He was the poetical pupil of Chapelle, whom he imitated in the easy negligence of his verse, and the occa- sional use of double rhymes. Though he was superior to what Pope has denominated *'the mob of gentlemen, who write with ease -y* yet he is rather to be classed with the careless I 1 14 LIFE OF AKENSIDE. In this Ode, the poet condemns the licentious- ness of Chaulieu ; but he makes a concession, to which it is impossible to accede. " We own, had Fate to man assign'd Nor sense, nor wish, but what obey Or Venus soft or Bacchus gay ; Then might our bard's voluptuous creed Most aptless govern human-kmd : Unless, perchance, what he hath sung Of tortur'd joints and nerves unstrung, Some wrangling heretic should plead." Akenside seems, for a moment, to forget, that temperance must, in all cases, be the best luxury ; and that wisdom and virtue are the best rewards. men of genius, than with the masters of the art Voltaire, in his ^' Temple of Taste," has thus characterized him : Je vis arriver en ce lieu Le brillant Abbe de Chaulieu, Qui chantoit en sortant de table. II osoit caresser le Dieu D'un air familier, mals aimable. Sa vive imagination Prodiguoit, dans sa douce ivresse, Des beaut^s sans correction, Qui chocquoient un peu la justesse, Et respiroient la passion. This Epicurean, notwithstanding frequent attacks of the gout, lived to his 81st year; dying at Parig in 1720,— Aiktnfrom Moreri, LIFE OF AKENSIDE. 115 In 1 766, Mr. Hall retired to Bath, to take the benefit of the waters, and there fell into a state, says the Hon. George Hardinge^ perhaps unex- ampled in the philosophy of human decay. " He became first weak, then childish; and from that idiotcy emerged into the wildest paroxysm of de- lirium, in which he died *.'' Akenside had been some time acquainted with the celebrated Chakles Townsend, brother of the first Marquis of Townsend ; one of the best par- liamentary speakers of his timef ; in 1754 a Lord ♦ December, 1766. t His oratorical powers are thus described by Mr. Burke. ^' You understand, that I speak of Charles Townsend, whom I cannot eyen now remember without some d^ee of sensi- bility. In truth, he was the delight and ornament of this house, and the charm of every private society which he honoured with his presence. Perhaps there never arose in this country, nor in any country, a man of a more pointed and finished wit; and (where his passions were not con- cerned) of a more refined, exquisite, and penetrating judg- ment. If he had not so great a stock, as some have had, who flourished formerly, of knowledge, long treasured up, he knew better by far, than any man I ever was acquainted with, how to bring together in a short time, all that was ne- cessary to establish, to illustrate, and to decorate that side of the question he supported. He stated his matter skilfully and powerfully. He particularly excelled in a most luminous explanation and display of his subject His style of argu- i2 1 16 LIFE OF AKENSIDE. of the Admiralty, and, subsequently. Chancellor of the Exchequer. To this eminent person, who was, no doubt, one of Akenside^s patients*, the poet addressed two Odes. The first is not distinguished by any pass- age of interest, if we except the allusions to the affliction, with which the poet had been visited on the loss of Olympia. The second seems to have ment was neither trite and vulgar^ nor subtle and abstruse. He hit tlie house just between wind and tide. And not being troubled with too anxious a zeal for any matter in question, he was never tedious, or more earnest, than the preconceived opinions and present temper of the house ; and he seemed to guide, because he was always sure to follow it. '' There are many young members in the house (such, of late, has been the rapid succession of public men), who never saw that prodigy, Charles Townsend; nor of course know what a ferment he was able to excite in every thing by the violent ebuUition of his mixed virtues and failings,— lor failings he had undoubtedly— many of us remeinber them— we are this day considering the effect of them. But he had no failings, which were not owing to a noble cause; to an ardent, generous, perhaps an immoderate passion for fame ; A passion, which is the instinct of all great souls." * " Oh ! knew'st thou how the bahny air. The sun, the azure heav'ns, prepare To heal thy languid frame; No more wduld noisy courts engage. In vain would lying faction's rage Thy sacred leisure dainu" LIFE OF AKENSIDE* 117 been writtai while he was upon a visit to Mn Townsend in the country; and, like the ode to the Earl of Huntingdon, breathes all that an English- man can desire. Their friendship was, however, at last dissolved. Johnson endeavoured to explain this friendship on grounds, not ju$tified by the premises. " Sir," said he to Boswell, " a mian is very apt to complain of the ingratitude of those, who have risen far above him. A man, when he gets into a higher spherisj into other habits of life, cannot keep up all his former connexions. Then, sir, those who knew him formerly, upon a level with themselves, may think they ought to be treated as on a level, which cannot be. An acquaintance in a former situation may bring out things, which would be very dis- agreeable to have mentioned before higher company; though, perhaps, every body knows of them. This dissolved the friendship of Akenside and Charles Townsend." But this is no appropriate instance, as Mr. Croker justly observes in his late compre- hensive edition of BoswelFs Life of Johnson. " Charles Townsend, the nephew of the Prime Minister, the son of a peer, who was Secretary of State, and leader of the House of Commons, was as much above Akenside in their earliest days, as at I ] 8 LIFE OF AKENSIDE. any subsequent period. Nor was Akenside in rank inferior to Dr. Brocklesby, with whom Charles Townsend continued in intimate friendship, to the end of his life.'" In 1751 appeared a work, under the title of " MemcAres pour servir a FHistoire de la Maison de Brcmdebcmrgy This work, being written by Frederic, king of Prussia, was universally read throughout Europe. It contained many extraor- dinary passages, and among the rest the two fol- lowing : — ' " // sejit une migration (the author is speaking of what happened of the Revocation of Nantz *\ dont on navoit guere vu d^exemples dans Vhistoire: un peuple entier sortit du royaume par t esprit de parti en haine du pape, et pour re- cevoir sous un autre del la communion sous les deux especes : quatre cens mille ames s expatrierent ainsi et abandonnerent tous leur biens pour detonner dans d*autres temples les vteux pseaumes de Clement Marot** " La crainte donna lejour d la cr^dulitS, et famour propre interessa bient6t le del au destin des hommes" Perceiving the consequences of these passages on the minds of the ignorant ; — more especially since they proceeded from so high a quarter, — Akenside wrote an ode to the author. This ode has nothing M.A. LIFE OF AKENSIDE. 1 19 very remarkable ; but there is one stanza, and that a very fine one, which we may quote, because it r^ spects not only the general argument, but another, he had assumed in his " Pleasures of Imagination ;*' viz. that ridicule is the test of truth. ^'O evil foresight, and pernicious care ! Wilt thou indeed abide by this appeal? Shall we the lessons of thy pen compare With private honour, or with public zeal? Whence, then, at things divine those darts of scorn? Why are the woes, which virtuous men have borne For sacred truth, a prey to laughter given ? What fiend, what foe of nature, urged thy arm Th' Almighty of his sceptre to disarm. To push this earth adrift, and leave it loose from Heav'n ?" Three years after, following the same course, Akenside wrote an ode to the truly admirable Hoadley, Bishop of Winchester; an excellent man, a constitutional politician, and a truly Christian bishop. He had been, successively. Bishop of Bangor, Hereford, and Salisbury; and having long been actively engaged in the endeavour to awaken and keep alive a regard to civil and political liberty, Akenside's ode operated not only as a farther ex- citement, but as a reward : for the virtues of the bishop are celebrated in the best manner; and his ISO LIFE OF AKENSID£. principles recommended to the observance and pre^ servationoraiLafter times'*^. In July, 1765, Akenside read the Gulstonian Lectures before the CoUege of Physicians. In these lectures, he advanced opinions, relative to the lymphatic vessels of animals, in decisive opposition to those of Boerhaave. These opinions may be gathered from the following abstract. ^^ That the lymphatics in general have their origin among the little cavities of the cellular substance of the muscles, among the mucous solliculi of the tendons, or the membranous receptacles and ducts of the larger glands: — that their extremities or roots imbibe from these cavities the moisture, exhaled there from the ultimate arterial tubes, just as the lacteals, which are the lymphatics of the mesentery, do on the con- cave surface of the intestines ; and that the minute imbibing vessels, by gradually opening one into another, form, at length, a lymphatic trunk, fur- nished with valves to prevent the return of its fluid, and tending uniformly from the extremities and from the viscera, to reconvey to the blood that . * Bishop Hoadley was frequently styled by his adversaries^ the Rbpubligan Bishop; but tbe learned and admirable Lowth^ in his Life of Wickham, calls him " the great ad- vocate of dvil and religious liberty." LIFE OF AKENSID£« 121 l3^niph, or that fine steam, with which they are kept in perpetual moisture; a circumstance indispensable to life and motion ; while, at the same time, th^ continual re-absorption of that moisture, by the lymphatics, is no less necessary to preserve the blood properly fluid, and to prevent the putrefac-> tion, which would inevitably follow, if this animal vapour were suffered to stagnate in the cavities, where it is discharged.^ This theory, Akenside asserts, he drew out for himself; and before the delivery of which before the College of Surgeons, no public mention had been made. These observations, he goes on to assure us, he did not print at the time. But a dis- pute having, afterwards, aiisen between two other gentlemen, who each claimed for himself the honour of the discovery, Akenside was prevailed upon to give in, at a meeting of the Royal Society, so much of his lectures, as related to the subject in question. This portion of the lectures was, in consequence, laid before the Royal Society; and it being read in the presence of several gentlemen, who had, formerly, heard the lectures themselves, the paper was published in the Philosophical Transactions by the Council of the Royal Society. It was, there- fore, with no small surprise and indignation, that 192 UFE OF AKENSIDE. Akenside learnt, some time after, that Dr. Alexander Munro, Professor of Anatomy at Edinburgh, had published some Remarks, in a Postscript to a Pam- phlet, entitled Observations, Anatomical and Phy- siological ; insinuating, that Akenside did not dis- cover his conjecture, relative to the lymphatic ves- sels of animals, until Dr. Monro'*s Treatise on the same lymphatics had been sent to England. Akenside^s observations had been addressed to the College of Surgeons in 1755. The publication of them took place in 1757; Dr. Monro'^s Treatise arrived in England in 1756. It was impossible^ therefore, that Akenside could have taken the idea from Dr. Monro, as the statement of the latter im- plied : — But had the observations been printed in the Philosophical Transactions, without any testi- mony to prove, that they had been previously read before the College of Surgeons, Akenside would have had no small trouble to convince the world, that he was indeed the original discoverer. The me- mory of Akenside has been, in fact, strangely neg- lected by medical men ; and it will give me great pleasure, should these pages become the humble instrument of his being, hereafter, more adequately appreciated. I think it probable, that what was said of Dr. LIFE OF AKENSIDE. 1S3 Garth might be, with equal justice, applied to Dr. Akenside ; viz. — that no physician knew his art more, nor his trade less*. The year 1757 is remarkable in the life of Aken- side, for his having completed the first book of his second poem on the Pleasures of the Imagination. In 1758 he wrote his Ode to the Country Gen- tlemen of England. The poet-laureate, White- head, also published ^^ verses to the people of Eng- land,*^ at the same time ; in the same same form ; and at the same price f. " This ode,^ says Mr. Justice Hardinge, in a • " Garth was a man," says Warton J, " of the sweetest disposition^ amiable manners, and universal benevolence; all parties, at a time when party violence was at a great height, joined in praising and loving him." And here I cannot deny myself the pleasure of quoting Pope's opinion of the physicians of his time. " There is no end of my kind treatment from the faculty," said be, in a letter to Mr. Allen a few weeks before he died. ** They are, in general, the most amiable companions, and the best friends, as well as most learned men I know," He can have but a very limited knowledge of society, who cannot apply this to the medical men of the present age, as well as to that which is passed. t Quarto, sixpence. } Ed. of Pope, Vol. I. p. 75. 124 LIFE OF AKENSIDE. letter to Mr. Nichols, " is unequal ; but it has glo- rious passages in it. Mr.. Elliott, father of Lord Minto, made an admirable speech in support of the Scotch militia, which I had the good fortune to heiar, when I was a boy :. and it was reported, that when commended, as he was, on every side, for that per- formance; — ' If I was above myself,' answered he, ' I can account for it ; for I had been animated by the sublime ode of Dr. Akenside.'" The criticisms of cotemporaries on eminent lite- rary characters are of little authority, while those characters are living ; but they become interesting in the distant time. With this impression I insert a criticism on this poem, from the Monthly Review. *' The poetical productions of this twofold disciple of Apollo" have this peculiar excellence; they * This title was first given to Akenside in Cooper's Call of Aristippus. '* O thou, for whom the British bays Bloom in these unpoetic days. Whose early genius glow'd to follow The arts through Nature's ancient waya. Twofold disciple of ApoUo ! Shall Aristippus' easy lays, Trifles of philosophic pleasure^ Composed in literary leisure. Aspire to gain thy deathless praise? " LIFE OF AKENSIDE. 1S5 uniformly glow with the sacred fire of liberty ; in- asmuch that our public-spirited doctor well deserves to be styled the poet of the community. In this light we have read his Ode to the Country Gentle- men of England, with peculiar satisfaction. It is spirited, manly, and sufficiently poetical, for those to whom it is addressed ;— and as, in former times, the halls of our rural ancestors were adorned with passages from our old chronicles, so we heartily wish, that most of the stanzas of this patriotic per- formance were to supply the place, in our modern mansions, of race-horses, Newmarket jockies, and the trophies of the chase.^' Soon after writing this poem, the author was seized with a violent sickness ; to facilitate his re- covery from which, he retired, for a short time, to Groulder^s Hill, the seat of Mr. Dyson ; where he had the satisfaction of hailing the arrival of a lady, whom his friend had recently married. To this agreeable circumstance he alludes in an ode, written on the occasion of his recovery. Never, in fact, was Another writer * says^ his Attic urn was " Fill'd from Ilyssus by the Naiad's hand. »* Author of the £pistle to Christopher Anstey, Esq. 126 LIFE OF AKENSIDE. any friendship more beautiful than that, subsisting between these excellent persons ! " While around his sylvan scene My Dyson led the white- wing'd hours; Oft from th' Athenian academic bowers Their sages came ; oft heard our lingering walk ; The Mantuan music, warbling o'er the green,— And oft did TuUy's reverend shade. Though much for liberty afraid. With us of letter d ease or virtuous glory talk. But OTHER GUESTS Were on their way. And reach'd, ere long, this favour'd grove ; Ev'n the celestial progeny of Jove, Bright Venus ! with her all-subduing son. Whose golden shaft roost willingly obey The best and wisest As they came. Glad Hymen waved his genial flame. And sang their happy gifts, and praised their spotless throne. I saw, when through yon festive gate He led along his chosen maid. And to my friend with smiles presenting said : ' Receive that fairest wealth, which Heaven assign'd To human fortune. Did thy lonely state One wish, one utmost hope, confess ? Behold ! she comes t' adorn and bless; Comes, worthy of thy heart, and equal to thy mind.' " Though Akenside never married, it is evident from many passages in his poems, that he was sensibly alive to the comforts of a married' state. LIFE OF AKENSIBE. 127 The loss of Parthenia occurred in early youth ; — that of Olyrapia in maturer manhood : '^ Far other vows must I prefer To thy indulgent power ; Alas ! hut now I paid my tear On fair Olympiads virgin tomh> And lo^ from thence^ in quest I roam Of Philomela's hower." Akenside, like many a valiant knight, had laughed at love, when love was at a distance * ; but there seems to have been no period of his life, in which he was not sensible to its impressions. Parthenia and Olympia he lost, when upon the eve of marriage with them; but he celebrates other ladies, and speaks of them even with affection ; Amoret f and Melissa J. To which of these he alludes in his ode, entitled the Complaint, we are left to con- jecture. " I know, I see Her merit, needs it now be shown, Alas ! to me ? How often to myself unknown * See particularly his Elegy on Love ; his Ode on Love ; and his Ode to a Friend, unsuccessful in Love, t Ode X. h. ii. I P. of I. second poem, i. v. 366. 128 LIFE OF AKENSIDE. The graoefii], gentle^ virtuous maid Have I admired ! How often said What joy to call a heart like hers one's own T The feelings of Akenside, at length, relapsed almost into indifference ; but he was always alive to the irksome destitution of comfort, which attends a protracted life of celibacy. " Let the busy, or the wiser says he, in one of his odes- '^ Let the husy or the wise View him with contemptuous eyes. Love is native to the heart* Guide its wishes as you will. Without love you ^11 find it still Void in one essential part. Me, though no peculiar fair Toiiches with a lover's care. Though the pride of my desire Asks immortal Friendship's name. Asks the palm of honest fame. And the old heroic lyre ; Though the day have smoothly gone. Or to letter d leisure known, Or in social duty spent, Yet, at eve, my lonely breast Seeks in vain for perfect rest. Languishes for true content." Akenside's respect for women peeps out every where. In one passage he calls them " chief of ter- restrial nature," LIFE OF AK£NSIDE. 1S9 « " What sublimer pomp Adorns the sect^ where Virtue dwells on earthy And Truth's eternal day-light shines around ; What palm belongs to Man*s imperial front. And Woman, powerful with becoming smiles. Chief of terrestrial nature! need we now Strive to inculcate?" Having, in a former page, alluded to Dr. John- ^n's slender appreciation of Akenside^s Hymn to the Naiads, we may now insert his opinion in re- gard to the odes. But iSrst in respect to the Plea- sures of the Imagination. " Mr. Murphy said, * the Memoirs of Gray's Life set him much higher in his estimation than his poems did; for you there saw a man con- stantly at work in literature.' Johnson acquiesced in this, but depreciated the book ; I thought very unreasonably : for he said, ^ I forced myself to read it, only, because it was the common topic of con« versation. I found it mighty dull ; and as for the style, it was fit for the second table.' Why he thought so, I was at a loss to conceive. He now gave it as his opinion, that Akenside was a superior poet both to Gray and Mason." <^ I see they have published a splendid edition of Akenside's works," said Johnson^ on another K 130 LIFE OF AKENSIDE. oecasion : " one bad ode may be su£Pered ; but a number of them makes one sick." " Akenside'*s distinguished poem is on the Ima- gination,^ answered Boswell ; " but for my part, I never could admire it, so much as most people do.'' " Sir," said Johnson, " I could not read it through." ^* I have read it through,'' returned Boswell, " but I could observe no great power in it." That Johnson^ — who does not appear to have en- joyed much pleasure from the higher orders either of poetry, painting, music, or architecture, — should not be able to read the Pleasures of the Imagina- tion through, is not much to be wondered at ;— that Boswell should have been able to recognize no great power in it is still less to be admired : since beauty and grandeur do not so much exist in the objects observed, as in the mind, observing. The fame of Akenside, as a physician, seems tiow to have acquired some stability. In January, 1759, he was appointed assistant physician to St. Thomas's Hospital, and two months after principal physician ; and in the same year assistant physician to Christ's Hospital. The next year, 1760, was distinguished by the LIFE OF AKENSIDE. 181 publication of sn oration*, delivered before the College of Surgeons. The title stands thus : '^ Oratio anniversaria, quam ex Harveii intiiiutio in Theatro CoUegii Regalis medicorum Londinensis, die Oct. xviii. A» MDCCLIX, habuit Marcus Akenside, M. D, Coll, Medm et Reg, Societ. Socios. Dodsley. MDCCLX" This oration was dedicated to Dr. Reeve : — * *' Firo eximio Thomw Reeve, M, D. Prcesidi dignissimOy et sociis doctissimia CoUegii Regalis Medicorum Londinensis, kanc orationem illorum Jussu editam, D, 2>. D, Marcus Akensidef'* A copy of this work Akenside, soon after pub- lication, sent as a present to Dr. Birch, who left it to the British Museum ; in the library of which it * Dodsley, 4to. One Shilling. f '^ Pope has not, in his art of criticism, followed the examples of the ancients, in addressing their didactic poems to some particular person ; as Hesiod to Perses ; Lucretius to Memmius; Virgil to Mecsnas; Horace to the Pisos; Ovid, his Fasti, to (xermanicus ; Oppian to Caracalla. In later times Fracastorius addressed P. Bembo; Vida the Dauphin of France. But neither Boileau in his art, nor Roscommon, nor Buckingham, in their Essays, nor Armstrong, nor Ak£n- siDE, have followed this practice." Wartons Pope, i. 270. This error of Warton, in respect to Akenside, may be cor« rected by referring to page 32. x2 18S LIFE OF AKENSIDE. still remaiDS, with the following MS. memorandum r Tho, Birch, donum authorise Martii 20, 1760. We may here devote a short space to Mr. Jus- TiCE Hardinge. " The first I can recollect of my own personal acquaintance with Dr. Akenside's name and muse,*^ says he, in a letter to Mr. Nichols, *' was my father's recital to me, when I was a boy at Eton school, of the Invocation to Ancient Greece, in that celebrated poem, which has been so depre- ciated by Dr. Johnson, that I fear no error of judg-* ment and of taste, manifest in that criticism, can redeem the censure from heavier imputations. This inspired passage, as I think still, was recommended additionally to me by the charm of recitation, in which not even Garrick himself couid be superior to Mr. Nicholas Hardinge, though he had no musical ear. But his reading and i-epeaiing ear, if I may use that phrase, was exquisite. It is very singular, but it is true, that Akenside was not a good reader of his own verse.^ Nor were Addison or Thomson. Virgil, on the contrary, was a very fine reader. Mr. Justice Hardinge was a very peculiar person; and left behind him the character of ^^ possessing, rather than profiting by great talents." He had a very expressive countenance, and was possessed of LIFE OF AKENSIDE. 133 an admirable temper : his manners were playful, and his zeal, in favour of those he protected, is said to have been ardent and unremitting. He was nephew to the great Lord Camden ; many years solicitor to Queen Charlotte; and one of the justices for the counties of Glamorgan, Radnor^ and Brecon. He had a due knowledge of legal subjects : but his manner in court was, occasionally, intemperate and not suf- ficiently dignified. His charges, however, were greatly admired. Having been some years connected with the principality, I have frequently heard his addresses to grand-jurymen ; and could not but be greatly struck with the elegance of his manner, the force of his declamation, the pliability of his deport- ment, and his happy facility in making classical allu- 6ions. The manner in which he delivered his charge, in respect to Napoleon, I shall never forget*. •*' Here, at this period of oar intercourse, I should part jvith you, but for the times They call upon me with an imperious voice, to animate the high spirit of the day, under your wing, if it should be the last breath of my life. That high spirit beams upon us with a golden ray of hope, that we have a deliverance at hand from the base impostor, as well as the usurping tyrant, of the continent, who would have degraded us and you, if the hand- writing o^ the wall had not convinced him, that slavery and lifp .never can be reconciled in British adversaries. The most enlightened city of the civilized world, which is, in other 134 LIFE OF AKEHSIDE. He was, also, a poet and a critic; of which afew specimens may not be disagreeable ; since he was a friend, and, for the most part, a great admirer of words^ to name the Citt of London^ has conntersignedy with all the sanction of its proud name, and with all die eloquenoe of its pnhlic spirit^ oar interesting appeal to the God of hattles in the patriot anny of Spain. Upon similar occasions I haye attested yoor zeal for your king, and for his goyeminent, when your independent mind has approved their conduct. In honour to that independence, I dare not to recommend; hut I have the courage to express a sanguine hope^ that you will not part, before you have pledged congenial sentiments in your address to the king, and through him to the country, which I will gratefully and proudly forward unto his majesty's hand. We are not only enlisted in the same host, but we are enrolled in the same principle, which is British at the heart's core. It is the cause of native rights and of national independence; it is the generous hatred of a tyrant, whom nothing but the sword can meet — who violates every engagement— betrays every confidence — has polluted every thing he has touched — and is, in a human shape, the pestilence not only of the legitimate government, but of the moral world. He has been com- pared, by depraved or timid sycophants, to Alexander and Cfesar. The compliment is basely false: those criminal heroes, in their frenzy of ambition, had lucid intervals of clemency, of graceful conduct, and of social virtue:— nothing of the kind has yet escaped from him. His resemblance to our usurper, Cromwell, is a little more close ; but he was an observer of treaties, and kept his enemies at bay by his arms — not by the tenor of his friendship,— the worst of all this tyrant's enmities. LIFE OF AKENSIDE. 135 the poet, whose life and mind I have undertaken to delineate. *' Amongst his accumulated perfidies^ let me offer to your notice (in a bird's-eye view) his conduct in Spain :— ' Show me his picture ! Let me see his eyes ! That when I note another man like him^ 1 may avoid him/ He was the ally of Spain->he was debtor to that power for important services— he obtained its confidence. He disunited the king from the heir-apparent^ his own son — he made that son his hero— he fomented this family discord into a civil war. He then took upon himself the office of mediator^ with ,an army at his heels, erected an intermediate government in a subordinate janissary's hand, and poured his French troops into the capital of the empire. He took the king, the heir- apparent, and the queen of Spain, with him ; he bound them hand and foot j he made the king and his heir successively abdicate their crown, when they were as free as the felon, who is confined in your gaol ; he made— oh infamy of horror ! — this queen bastardize her own legitimate son, and branded herself as a d^aded prostitute ! He then quoted those very infamies against them in Spain, as proving them unworthy to return, and base to their country. Opposed in these detestable perfidies, he murdered thousands of Spaniards in cold blood; and at last insulted that high-spirited nation with his in- famous brother's election, by him, to the vacant throne ! '' It is this man we are to fight ; our own deliverance and that of Europe are combined— we are to fight him locally in Spain. But I address men of good sense, equal to their high spirits. They will follow me in the sentiment, that Spain is Britain, that her cause will be felt in every inch of her coast, and of the island we inhabit." 1S6 LIFE OF AKENSIDE. 0IKT8 OF THE WELSH JUIKSe's CATAL&T*. '' The Fates have doom'd without remorse Me, — to an old and wheezing horse^— Unless, to shift the parted hlame^ I take another, which is lame. A miiror of the rider^s fate Appears in his equestrian state; It's like Ins fortune's lingering death, — It's lame, — it's old, — it's out of breath," In another poem he fables, that he, one day, saw his full-bottomed wig, stripped of its curls, and swept into a corner of a passage ; — upon which, he addressed the disconsolate judicial ornament, as if it could hear and speak : " Emhlem of all state and power. Wing and feather of an hour ! Injured curl ! whose awful trace Once adorn'd a Judge's face ; Once, as frightened Cambria saw. Was the Dignity of Law ; When its penthouse overhung The Judicial Pedant's tongue ; And his venerable head Could assume the weight of lead. * He generally rode the circuit; and every now and then took pleasure in disappointing the sheriffs, by taking a by- road into the town, in which he was, the moment after his arrival, to sit as Chief Judge. He is' still remembered in South Wales; particularly amongst the ladies. LIFE OF AKENSIDE. 137 Tlien his thunder could appal Guilt-conyicted in the Hall; Then^ with a becoming fury^ He could reprobate a jury ; Or could point his whipping wrath At a Felon's table'Cloth *. Then protection he could pledge To a rag upon a hedge. Now the comb^ as in despair^ Shuns the abdicated hair; And the Maid's oblivious broom Seems to ridicule the doom. From the lethargy of rest Who shall raise thy dormant crest? April soon will pass away ; Oh, beware \he first ofMayM Rather warn the felon crows. Where the ripening herbage grows ; Where, though mute, thy sapient form Still its terrors can reform ; Than degrade thee out of Court> For the gazer's common sport ; Prohibiting all thy power To the moVs insulting hour. * " He had censured a jury for acquitting a murderer; and had sentenced a man to be whipped for stealing a tables doth from a hedge." t ^^ Nothing is more shamefuUy familiar upon these Sa- turnalia to the common eye, than a judge's wig upon the face of a chimney-sweeper," 1S8 LIFE OF AKENSIDE. Thus when hair again was grown> Samson made his prowess known^ To derision's cruel mirth^ By its immolated worth." EPITAPH ON HIMSELF. Here 's the old Boy, whose heart was never cold^ Fond as in youth, when all the rest was old. He without pain from house and land could part ; But if he lost a rhyme, it hroke his heart. In yanities gay Villiers he surpass'd. The new-horn whims improving on the last : Yet has this lunatic one truth impress'd— That Fools are happy y and thai life *s a jest*' €< As a specimen of criticism we may select the fol- lowing letter addressed to Mr. Mudford : — *^ I am not such an enthusiast for Lokd Bfron as you are, and I confess that I think Walteb Scott very superior to him ; — Crabbe, though a mannerist, is a particular favourite of mine. Kogers and Camp- bell have a thousand beauties. Lord Byron is un- questionably a gifted creature, full of genius, fancy, and poetical effect ; but he is desultory and unequal. His thoughts are often bold and original; his expressions happy and striking ; but he is often quaint and forced in liis images, at least as / think. But you must not kill me, if I say in my old age, I almost begin to think that taste, as it is called, in our judgment of the Muse, LIP£ Of* AKlSNSIDE. .139 has more whim than solidity^ and that our ear Is often too imperious to be governed by rules. Nothing can be more unlike than Gbay and Cowfer ; yet I am enraptured of them both. I am wicked enough to think Dbyden very superior to Popb. Pbiob and Waller, in some of their playful graces, enchant me; but I cannot admire Mason or Thomson." I have paid the greater attention to Mr. Har- dinge *, because he brings a charge against Aken- side of political apostacy. It is certain that Mr. Dyson forsook his party, and became a tory ; but it does not appear that Akenside, whatever his friend might do, ever for- sook his principles; at least, his second poem on the Pleasures of Imagination is, to the full, as remarkable for a fine glow of liberty as the first. Two or three passages may be supposed to militate against this opinion ; but, I think, they will, in no respect, bear an interpretation hostile to the prin- ciples, by which Akenside seems always to have been governed. Mr. Hardinge thought otherwise. " I must not forget to mention," says he, " perhaps the most curious feature of his life. It is in the • He died at Presteigne, April 16, 1816, in the 7J2d year of his age. 140 LIFE OF AKENSIDE. partial, but very awkward change, which Aken- side*s new politics at court made in those of the poet. You will find a memorable proof to this point. In the first edition of the work these lines appear: '* Wilt thou^ kind Hannony, descend^ And join the festive train : for with thee comes Migestic Truth ; and where Truth deigns to come^ Her sister^ Liherty^ will not be far." And in the second edition, " For with thee comes * Wise order; and where order deigns to conie^ Her sister Liberty will not be far." I confess, I see no derogation of principle here: Order being the sister of Liberty as well as Truth ; and both, as it were, the parents of that Harmony, the poet celebrates. In the first edition of the ode " On leaving Hol- land,'' the poet says— '* I go where Freedom in the streets is known, And tells a monarch on his throne^ Tells him, he reigns, he lives, but by her voice. n * In the MS. corrected poem the following line is intro- duced: ** The guide^ the guardian^ of their mystic rites." LIFE OF AkENStDE. 141 In the last edition — '^ I go where Liberty to all is known, And tells a monarch on his throne^ He reigns not but by her preserving voice** Surely there is no difference here, that can be twisted into any, — even the slightest, — ^variation of isentiment. Neither is there any thing of import- ance in the alteration, made in his Ode to the Earl of Huntingdon : — " But here, where freedom's equal throne^ To all her valiant sons are known ; Where all direct the sword, she wears, And each the power which rules him shares." In the subsequent editions (third line), *' Where all are conscious of her caresJ^ No one can have a greater contempt for the ad* ministration of Lord Bute than I have; but Mr. Dyson might have been a supporter of that mini* ster, and yet Akenside remain innocent of the change. That courtly acquaintance might have an influence on the mind of a physician, desirous of practice, is not to be wondered at; but that he ever became as zealous a partisan of the Tories, as he had been of thfr Whigs, is not only not to be credited, but is an assertion, that bears within 142 UFE OF AKENSIDE. itself the balance of a contradiction. For, had he been as zealous a lover of too extended an autho- rity, as he had previously been of Liberty and a due administration of the laws, he would, like many, — I had almost sidd most, — of his poetical brethren, have left something better bdbind him^ wherewith to mark the change, than some of the finest sentiments, that human language will admit of. I have, I say, a strong dislike to the me« mory of the Bute and North administrations; but I still think, that a physician might be so prudent as not to offend a party, which had ad- vanced him ; and yet remain a decided enemy to the foes of his country, whether from within or from without. Even so late as 1770, the year in which he died, Akenside wrote lines; than which nothing can breathe a purer spirit, or be indicative of a more exalted imagination. ^' Nor shall e'er The graver tasks of manhood, or th' advice Of vulgar wisdom move me to disclaim Those studies, which possessed me in the dawn Of life^ and fix'd the colour of my mind. For every future year." P. /. Second Poem, iv. v. 46. In his third book, too, — ^finished long after the LIFE QE AKENSIDE. 143 period of which we have been lately speaking, with what contempt and ridicule does he visit— ** The abject soul. Who, blushing, half resigns the candid praise Of temperance and honour ; half disowns A freeman's hatred of tyrannic pride. And hears, with sickly smiles, the venal mouth. With foulest licence, mock the patriot's name*." P. J. Second Poem, L 222. Indeed, that his love of true liberty had become, in no degree, impaired by political associations, is not only evident from the passages above quoted, but from the circumstance of the whole episode of Solon having been written with no other design, than that of showing the influence, which poetry has in duly enforcing the cause and interests of freedom. In the second poem there is an alteration, strikingly confirmative of the preceding observations: — pre- vious to exhibiting which, however, I shall state an * His contempt of flattery, when addressed to tyrants, is amply shown in his appreciation of Horace : " Whose verse adom'd a tyrant's crimes; Who saw majestic Rome betray'd. And lent the imperial ruffian aid.' f» 144 LIFE OF AKENSIBE. alteration, which occurs in the MS. corrected copy of the first. OBIOINAL. *' Nor be my thoughts n Presumptuous counted^ if amid the calm^ That soothes this yemal evening into smiles, i steal, impatient, from the sordid haunts Of sTAiTE and low ambition, to attend Thy sacred presence in the sylvan shade. By their malignant footsteps ne'er profaned. MS. CORBECTIOK. ^' If I from supebstition's gloomy haunts Impatient steal, and from th' unseemly rites Of barbarous domination, to attend With hymns thy presence in the lonely shades, By their malignant footsteps unprofaned.' M In the Second Poem : *' If I, from vulgar superstition's walk. Impatient, steal, and from th' unseemly rites Of splendid adulation, to attend With hymns," &c. These alterations are very curious. First, he desires to steal from strife and low ambition ; then from the gloomy haunts of superstition and domi- nation ; lastly, not only from the haunts of ambition, but the unseemly rites of splendid adulation^ The LIFE OF AKENSIDE. 145 first denotes, the period of youth, when life was opening upon him in the midst of low-minded per- sons ; the next, when he had entered the high career of existence, and was, no doubt, taunted with the thoughts he bore to the exquisite advantages of universal toleration ; the last when he had entered the precincts of a court, and saw flattery assume a form, that could not be otherwise than revolting to an elegant and noble mind. In 1763, Akenside communicated the following account of a blow and its effects upon the heart, to the Royal Society, where it was read Dec. 22, iand soon after published in the Philosophical Trans- actions. '' On the 11th of September, 1762, Richard Rennet, a lad about fourteen years of age, was brought to a con- sultation of the physicians and surgeons of St. Thomas's hospital. His disorder was a palpitation of the heart \ so very violent to the touch, that we all concluded it to be an aneurism, and without remedy. He had a fre- quent cough. His pulse was quick, weak, and uneven; but not properly intermitting. It was apparent that nothing could be done, farther than by letting blood in small quantities, and by the use of emollient pectoral medicines, to lessen, now and then, however inconsider- ably, the extreme danger to which he was continually L 146 LIFE OF AKENSIDE. subject. He was taken into the hospital diat same da]r> being Saturday; and treated according to what had been agreed upon. But on the Tuesday morning fol-* lowing he died, without any previous alarm or alteration. " The origin of his complaint was a blow> which he had received six months before^ from the master whom he served^ as a waiter in a public-house. The master owned^ that he had pushed him slightly on the left side with his hand. The boy informed us, that he himself was then carrying a plate under his arm ; and that the blow or push from his master drove the edge of the plate forcibly between two of his ribs. He was imme- diately very ill ttom the hurt ; sick, and in great pain* His mother, also, informed us, that she thought the pal- pitation was more violent about a fortnight after the accident, than when we examined him. The day after the blow, they took eight ounces of blood from his arm ; about three weeks after that they again opened a vein, but got not much from it ; and three weeks from thence, they let him blood the last time to the amount of eight ounces. He began to have a cough soon after the hurt, with frequent spittings of blood in very large quantities; and had nocturnal sweats almost the whole six months^ during which he survived the blow. About four months after it, there came over the umbilical region of the abdomen, a livid appearance like a mortification : but it went off gradually, and at length vanished. He had nothing particular in his habit of body or state of health; save that, about a year before this accident, he had been Crippled with the rheumatism. He was, when we Saw UFE OF AKENSIDE. 147 liiin> a good deal reduced ; but had not a hectic nor a consumptive look. " On the day of his death Mr. Cowell opened him ; when^ to our great surprise^ we found no aneurism^ nor the least extravasation of the blood, either from the cavities of the heart, or the large vessels. But on the left ventricle of the heart, near its apex, there was a livid spot, almost as large as a half-crown piece, bruised and jelly-like; the part underneath being mortified quite to the cavity of the ventricle. From thence up- ward, toward the auricle, there went several livid specks and traces of inflammation, tending in like manner to gangrene. The heart did also, through its whole sur- fifice, adhere very closely to the pericardium ; and the whole outer surface of the pericardium as closely to the lungs. The other viscera were quite sound. '^ So that the mischief here was properly a contusion of the heart ; the edge of the plate having struck it, pro- bably at the instant of its greatest diastole. This pro- duced an inflammation on its surface, followed by a gangrene, and terminating in that double adhesion : by which the whole heart was fast tied up ; till, on this account, as well as by reason of the mortification, it was no longer able to circulate the blood." In 1764, Akenside published the most important of his medical works ; viz. De Dysenteria Comr- mentariua*. On this work the medical fame of * De Dysenteria Commentarins. Auctore Marco Aken- side, Coll. Med. Lcndin. Socio. Reg. Societ. Sodali, et Magnie L tfM 118 UFE OF AKENSIDE. Akenside prindpally rests. The dysentery seems to have been very little understood before his time^ and he attributes the causes to nearly the same as those of the rheumatism, between which, he insists, there is a great affinity. Hence he calls the bloody flux a rheumatism of the intestines*; and he re- commends, as a cure, the bleeding of persons of a full habit ; and certain portions of ipecacuanha. To cure the diarrhoea, which so frequently succeeds the flux, he recommends particularly one ounce of fresh mutton suet, melted in a pint of boiling milk. The causes of the action of ipecacuanha on the subjects of this distemper, he resolves into its aperient power, and its faculty of relaxing the coats of the intestines^ and thence abating the violence of ^ritannife Reginae Medico. Londini : apud R. et I. Doddey. MDCCLXIV. Table of Contents : Cap. I. De dysenteric historia. 30 pp. II. De dysentericorum curatione. 27 pp. III. De causis dysenterise. 16 pp. IV. De actione ipecacoanhse in dysentericos. 15 pp. * " Denique banc morborum similitudinem toties jam observavi et perspexi^ ut Dysenteriam jamdudum pro Rheu- matismo intestinorum habeam,— lios vero^ id Tocabulum ^ doloribus artuum et musculorum ad intestina transferendo, similem plane utriusque morbi causam et materiam esse £ontendimus," LIFE OF AKENSIDE. 149 the tenesmus. In short, he supposes it to possess d kind of anodyne and antispasmodic virtue, which no other opiate possesses in this distemper ; which he^, contrary -to the opinions of Sydenham *, and Boerr haave, whoqi he styles — ** ingeniossimus et can- didissimus,'*' and Meadf, thinks ought seldom to be classed among acute diseases |. The latinity pf this work is singularly pure and elegant; and to advance a knowledge of its con- tents, Dr. Ryan undertook to translate it; but thigt version being faulty in many respects, Mr. Motteuit attempted it: neither versions, however, are re* xnarkable for style, or even for a close adherence to the author's text. In 1766, Akenside published his ode to Thomas Edwabds, Esq.* It was printed in folio, published • Vid. Observat de Morb. Acut^ sect. i. c 2, sect iv. c. 3. t Vid. Monita et Praecept. Med. c. vii. sect 1. X The use of ipecacuanha in this disorder appears to have been some time known on the Continent ; for we read in the life of Helvetius, p. vi., that Adrian, grandfather to Hel- yetius, gained great reputation in Holland, by discovering a cure for the dysentery by the exhibition of ipecacuanha. Vid. also Piso, de Indias utriusque re Ndiuraii et MedicOf /' Drachmae dus radicis ipecacuanha in 3iiij liquoris appro- priati cocts, vel per noctem macerate, cujus infusum cum vd sine oxymelis 3j exhibetur." — Lib. ii. c. ix. The Am- sterdam edition, which is by far the best, has it c. xi. 150 LIFE OF AKBNSIDE. by Doddey, and sold for sixpence. This ode had been written as early as 1751 ; and it has created mrprise, that he should have so long withheld the publication. Doubtless, his anger against Dr. Warburton had long subsided; but War- burton, now become Bishop of Gloucester, inflamed it again by publishing a new edition of the Divine Legation of Moses, with the obnoxious postscript he had before appended to his preface ; and that, too, without any reference to the arguments, which had been adduced on the other side, — a practice not unusual with the learned bishop, who seems to have thought, on most occasions, that an attack vpoa him, even when in self-defence, was as great a crime as treason against the state. ^^ And yet, who is Dr. Warburton ?^ inquired Mr. Edwards, *^ what is his birth, and whence his privilege? that the reputations of men, both living and dead, of men in birth, character, station, in every instance of true worthiness, much his superiors, must lie at the mercy of his petulant satire, to be backed and mangled, as his ill-mannered spleen shall prompt him ; while it shall be unlawful for any body, under penalty of degradation, to laugh at the unscholarlike blunders, the crude and far-fetched conceits, the illiberal and indecent reflectioiis, which be has en- LIFIi OF AKENSIBE. 161 deavoured, with so much self-sufficiency and arro- gance^ to put off upon the world, as a standard of true criticism*.'' Mb, Edwabds was descended from a family, which had, for many years, been settled at Pitz- hanger, in the county of Middlesex. He was edu- cated at Eton ; whence he rentoved to King's Col- lege, Cambridge; but after graduating there some time, he determined, since his fortune was limited, neither to study the law, divinity, nor physic ; but to enter the army. He afterwards altered his plan, quitted the military lifi^, entered himself at Lincoln's Inn, and, after the usual terms, w^s called to the bar. At this period Akenside became acquainted with him; and their acquaintance soon ripened into esteem, and thence into friendship. Mr. Edwards^ like his associate, was an accomplished scholar. His manners were mild and bland, and his dispo3i- tion affectionate to the last degree. He was the last of hi3 family; and as the sonnet, he wrote on seeing a family picture, which brought to his recoU lection the melancholy circumstance of his having lost four brothers, and four sisters, is remarkable fc^ an elegant and pathetic simplicity, I shall quote it. * Cftoons of Cridfiism. Pref. 7, 34 ^d. 17^0. 15S JLIFE OF AKENSIDE. » ON A FAMILY PICTURE. " When pensiye on that portraiture I gaze^ Where my four Brothers round ahout me stand * And four fair Sisters smile with graces bland. The goodlier monument of happier days ; And think^ how soon insatiate Death, who preys On all, has cropp'd the rest with ruthless hand^ While only I survive of all that hand^ Which one chaste bed did to my father raise; It seems that like a column left alone^ The tottering remnant of some splendid fane, 'Scaped from the fury of the barb'rous Gaul, And wasting time, which has the rest o'erthrown^ Amidst our house's ruin I remain. Single, unprop'd, and nodding to my fall." Besides this sonnet, Mr. Edwards wrote manj others ; several of which are preserved in Dodslej^ Pearch'^s, and Nichols' collections. But the work, which raised him to a rank with men of letters, was his Canons of Ckiticism, writteii in direct hostility to Warburton, on his having published an edition of Shakspeare ;— nan edition which laid jthe reverend editor but too justly open to critical retaliation. Between Dr. Warburton and Mr. Edwards there had, for some time, existed a very strong mutual dislike; the cause of which is thus stated in the LIFE OF akenside; 153 Gentleman's Magazine *. " Being at Bath, some time after he went into the army, Mr. Edwards, not long after the marriage of Warburton with Mr. Allen's -f" niece, was introduced en famxUe. The conversation was, not unfrequently, turning on lite- rary subjects, and Warburton generally took the opportunity of showing his superiority in Greek ; not having the least idea, that an officer in the army understood any thing of that language; — till, one day, being accidentally in the library, Mr. Edwards took down a Greek author, and explained a passage in it in a manner, that War* burton did not approve. This occasioned no small ♦ Vol. liii. p. 288. f Mr. Allen was a man of plain good sense, and the most benevolent temper. He rose to great consideration by farm* ing tbe cross-posts \ which he put into the admirable order^ in which we now find them ; very much to the public advan- tage^ as well as his own. He was of that generous disposi* tion^ that his mind enlarged with his fortune ; and the wealthy he so honourably acquired^ he spent in a splendid ho8pi.> tality^ and the most extensive charities. His house^ in so public a scene^ as that of Bath, was open to all men of rank and worth, and especially to men of distinguished parts and learning \ whom he honoured and encouraged ; and whose respective merits he was enabled to appreciate by a natural discernment and superior good sense, rather than any ac- quired use and knowledge of letters. His domestic virtues were beyond all praise.— ir«rtiV Life of fFarburton, p* 4^. 154 LIFE OF AKENSIDE. contest ; and Mr* Edwards (who had now disco^ yered to Warburton, how he came by his know^ ledge) endeavoured to convince him, that he did not understand the original language ; and hinted that his knowledge arose from French translations* Warburton was highly irritated; an incurable breach took place ; and this trifling altercation (after Mr. Edwards had quitted the army, and was en- tered of Lincoln^s Inn) produced the Canons of Criticism.'' This work is not now often referred to; the occasion, for which it was written, having passed away ; but as its table of contents exhibits no slight degree of that species of humour, for which Swift has been so greatly celebrated? I shall give ai| ab- stract of it in a note *• * A professed critic has a right to 4eclare^ that his author wrote whatever he ought to have written^ with as much de<» termination, as if be had been at bis elbow' ; that he has a light to alter any passage he does not understand*^ and that these alterfitions he may make, in spite of the e^iKitness of the measures. Where he does not like an expressiop, ^nd cannot mend it, he may abuse his author for it«} or he may condemn it as an idle interpolations. As every author is to be corrected into all possible perfection^ j and of that perfection the critic i^ »Canons, p. I. »p. 5. »p,«4. ject of ridicule, had been treated by AVarburton^ The Canons of Criticism, therefore, united him the sake of showing his critical skill on both sides ' ; and he should take care to be provided, beforehand, with a good number of pedantic and abusive expressions, to throw about upon proper occasions ^ He may explain his author, or any former editor of him, by supplying such words, or pieces of words, or marks, as he may think fit for that purposes; and he may use the very same reasons for confirming his own observations, which he has disallowed in his adversary «. As the design of writing notes is not so much to explain the author's meaning, as to display the critic's knowledge s ; it may be proper, to show his universal learning, that be minutely point out from whence every metaphor and allusion is taken. It will be, also, especially if he be a married man, proper, in order to show the greatness of bis wit, to take every opportunity of sneering at the fair sex ^:— he may mis- quote himself, or any body else, in order to make an occasion of writing notes, when he cannot otherwise find one 7; and, lest he may not furnish a proper quota to his bookseller, he may write notes out of nothing"; and lastly 9, he may dispense with truth at all times, and in any manner agreeable to him- self, provided, by these violations, he can give the world a higher opinion, than it would otherwise entertain, that he is a man of great parts. • Canons, p. 1 10. « p. 1 12. s p. 114. 4 p. 1I8. s p. 119. « p. 128. 7 p. 132. 8 p, 134 9 p. 141. LIFE OF AKENSIDE. 157 paore intimately with Mr, Edwards. For as War^ burton's attack upon his philosophy had produced some effects, little favourable to his fame as a poet, he feared it might also, perhaps, prove, in some degree, injurious to him as a physician. Why he delayed the publication of his ode for so long a period as fifteen years, viz. from 1751 to 1766, does not appear ; but when he did publish it, it produced eflFects, very important for a time, to the fame of a critic, who had revelled in the almost unlimited authority, which he took pleasure in establishing within the empire of criticism. For, in a note, appended to this ode, Akenside roundly charged the right reverend critic with having zeal-* ously cultivated the friendship of Theobald and Concanen with the rest of the tribe, who confe* derated against Pope. In proof of which, he pro- duced a letter, which had been written by War- burton in 1726. " This letter,"' says Akenside^^ " was found in the year 1750, by Dr. Gavin Knight^ first librarian to the British Museum, in fitting up a house, which he had taken in Crane-court, Fleet- street. The house had, for a long time before, been let in lodgings, and in all probability, Concanen had icdged there. The original letter has been many years in my possession, and is here most, exactly 168 LIFE OF AUNSIDE* Gopiedi with its several little peculiarities in grammar^ spelling, and punctuation.-*— u^jTrt^dO, 1766. Jtf. A^ Letter from Mr. W. WarburUm io Mr. M. Con* amen. '' Dedr Sir, " Having had no more regard for those papers^ which I spoke of and promised to Mr. Theohald> than just what they deserved^ I in vain sought for them through a number of loose papers that had the same kind of abor- tive birth. I used to make it one good part of mj amusement in reading the English poets^ those of them I mean whose view flows regularly and constantly^ as well as dearly^ to trace them to their sources; and observe what oar^ as well as what slime and gravel they brought down with them. Dryden I observe borrows £or want of leasure^ and Pope for want of Genius; Milton out of pride^ and Addison out of modesty. And now I speak of this latter^ that you and Mr. Theobald may see of what kind those Idle collections are^ and likewise to give you my notion of what we may Safely pronounce an Imitation^ for it is not I presume the same train of Ideas^ that follow in the same descrip- tion of an Ancient and a modern^ where nature autoriae us to pronounce the latter an Imitation^ for the most judicious of all poets, Terence^ has observed of his own science^ ' Nihil est dictum, quod non sit dictum prius :' for these reasons I say I give myselfe the pleasure of setting down some imitations I observed in the Cato of Addison. UFE OF AKEMSIDE. 169 ' A day, an hour of virtttoua liberty l8 worth a trholo eternity ill bondage/ Act IL ^. 1. ' TULLY. ' Quod si immoriaiitas consegueretur praaentis periculi Jtigam^ iamen eo magis eafugienda esse videretur, quo dittm tumior esset serviius/'^FBiurr, Ob. 10. ^ADDISON. ' Bid him disband his l^ons^ Restore the commonwealth to liberty^ Submit his actions to the public censure^ And stand the judgement of a Roman Senate; Bid him do this^ and Cato is his friend*' ' TULLY. ' Pacem vtdif anna deponat, roget, depreceiur* Neminem equiorem reperiet quam me' — Philipp. 6. ' AnniBOK. — *— ' — ' — ^' But what is life ? *Ti8 not to stalk about and draw fredh air From time to time 'Tis to be free. WTien liberty is gone. Life grows insipid and has lost its relish*' iSTc. 3. ' TULLY. ' Non enirri in spiritu vita est : sed ea nulla fst omnino servientu'—TmLiBT* 10* 160 tIFE OF AKENSIDE. ^ AOBISON.' ■ ' Remember, O my friends^ the laws^ the rights. The generous plan of power deliver'd down From age to age by your renowned forefathers. O never let it perish in your hands.' Act III. Sc. 5. ' TDLLY* -' Hanc (libertatem scilij retirete, queeso, Q^ir^ies, guam vobis, tanquam hereditatem, mcLJores nostri reltquerunt, Philipp. 4. ^ ADDISON. ' The mistress of the world, the seat of empire. The nurse of heroes, the Delight of Gods.' * TULLY. * Roma domus virtutit, imperii dignitatis^ domicilium glorias, lux orbis terrarum,' — Db Oratore. " The first half of the 5 Sc, 3 Act, is nothing but a transcript from the 9 book of Lucan between the 300 and the 700 line. You see by this specimen the exactness of Mr. Addison's judgement who wanting sentiments worthy the Roman consul sought for them in Tully and Lucan. When he would give his subject those terrible graces which Dion. Halicar. complains he could find no where but in Homer, he takes the assist- ance of our Shakespear, who in his Julius CoBsar has painted the conspirators with a pomp and terrour^ that perfectly astonishes. Hear our British Homer : LIFE OF AKRNSIDE. 161 ' Between the acting of a dreadful thing, And the first motion, all the Int'rim is Like a phantasmal or a hideous dream ; The Grenius and the mortal Instruments Are then in council, and the state of man. Like to a little kingdom, suffers then The nature of an insurrection.' Mr. Addison has thus imitated it : — ^ i ) think what anxious moments pass between The birth of plots, and their last fatal periods ! O 'tis a dreadful interval of time, Fill'd up with horror all, and big with death !' '^ I have two things to observe on this imitation : — I. TheTdeconim this master of propriety has observed. In the Conspiracy of Shakespear's description^ the for- tunes of Caesar and the Roman Empire were concerned; and the magnificent circumstances of * The Genius and the mortal Instruments Are then in council,' is exactly proportioned to the dignity of the subject. But this would have been too great an apparatus to the desertion of Syphax and the rape of Sempronius, and therefore Mr. Addison omits it. II. The other thing more worth our notice is, that Mr. A. was so greatly moved and affected with the pomp of Shakespear's de- scription^ that instead of copying his Author* s sentiments, he has before he was aware given us only the marks of his own impressions on the reading him. For, M 162 LIFE OF AKENSIDE. ' O 'tifi a dreadful interral of time^ Fill'd up with horror all> and hig with death !' are but the affections raised by such lively images as these— ' all the Int'rim is Like a pbantasma or a hideous dream ;' and, ' the state of man> Like to a little kingdom, suffers then The nature of an insurrection.' "Again, when Mr. Addison would paint the softer passions, he has recourse to Lee, who certainly had a peculiar genius that way : thus, his Juba, ' True she is fair— O how divinely fair !' coldly imitates Lee in his Alex. : '' Then he would talk :— good gods, how he would talk !" I pronounce the more boldly of this, because Mr. A. in his 39 Spec, expresses his admiration of it. My paper fails me, or I should now offer to Mr. Theobald an objection against Shakespear's acquaintance with the ancients. As it appears to me of great weight, and as it is necessary he should be prepared to obviate all that occur on that head. But some other opportunity will present itselfe. You may now, s^, justly complain of my ill manners in deferring till now, what should have been first of all acknowledged due to you, which is my LIFE OF AKENSIDE. 163 thanks for all your favours when in town, particularly for introducing me to the knowledge of those worthy and ingenious gentlemen that made up our last night's conversation. I am, sir, with all esteem your most obliged friend and humble servant, '' W. Warburton. " Newarke, Jan, 2. 1726. "For Mr. M. Concanen at Mr. Woodward's at the half moon inffleetstreet London." It is unnecessary to enter much into the history of this subject. Concanen, to whom Warburton thus familiarly writes, was author of a multitude of scurrilities in the London journals ; in which he accused Pope of passing off Broome's verses, as well as those of the Duke of Buckingham, for his own* ; and, having thrown out some abuse against Lord Bolingbroke, became acquainted with Sir Wm. Yonge ; and having written for Sir Robert Walpole, he was made Attorney-General of Ja- maica. Thus promoted, he married an opulent widow ; returned to London in 1748, (whether upon his * Warburton. M 2 161< LIFE OF AKENSIDE. own resignation, or from having been turned out by Governor Trelawney is not decided) ; and died, very rich, of a consumption in 1740. He is thus stigmatized in the Dunciad^ — *' True to the bottom, see Concanen creep, A cold, long-winded native of the deep : If perseyerance gain the diver's prize. Not everlasting Blackmore this denies. No noise, no stir, no motion canst thou make ; Th' unconscions stream sleeps o'er thee like a lake." The Ode to Mr. Edwards +, to illustrate which the preceding very remarkable letter has been intro- duced, was written in derision of Warburton'^s edi- tion of Pope: and soon after its publication, the two following curious letters appeared in the Public Advertiser. " To the Printer of the Public Advertiser. " Sir, '' Amidst that torrent of abuse, which is daily pouring out on the most illustrious characters of the age, the learned Bishop of G could not fail to come * Book II. 299. t Mr. Edwards spent the latter part of his life at Tarrick; died when on a visit to his friend, Mr. Richardson, at Par- son's Green, unmarried ; and was buried at Elleshorough in Buckinghamshire. — J^ichoh. LIFE OF AKENSIDE. 165 in for his share. To omit numberless other instances, a thing, called * An Ode to J. Edwards, Esq.' (him of the Dunciad), is just published, and retailed with much industry, in the public prints. The writer, it seems, is Dr. Akenside ; and the date, as we are told in the title page, 1751. " What provocation the Doctor then had for this in- genious piece of revenge, every body understands ; but what determined him to make it public at this time may require to be explained. The secret, I suppose, is no more than this : — The bishop has, just now, given a new edition of the first volume of his Divine Legation ; and has thought fit to reprint the Censure, he had before made on a certain note of this poet — that very Censure, which had occasioned the ingenious Ode of 1751. Hinc UloB lachrymcB. But what ! the reader will say, this censure is of a critical and controversial kind: it shows Dr. Akenside to be an ill-reasoner, and how is this charge evaded by the Doctor's attempt to show the Bishop to be an ill man } Certainly, not at all : but it was something to blacken whom he could not refute. ''In the mean time, the triumphant superiority of the Bishop's pen is very conspicuous. But who, that could have answered the Writer^ would have had the meanness to attack the Man ? '^ But what, after all, is this attack ? Why, the Bishop, it seems, thought favourably of a dunce, then his acquaintance, and entertained some un^Etvourable sentiments of a wit, afterwards his Mend. And what is there in all this (admitting the fact to be as re- lated), which can be thought to lessen the character of 166 LIFE OF AKENSIDE. the learned Prelate ? What great man has never made an acquaintance with a little one ? Or^ what wise man. has never been misled by Prejudice ? I am not in the secret of the Bishop's History; but I could tell the Doctor of many dull men^ whom this generous Prelate has had the condescension to treat with more civility^ than they deserved ; and if he has had his prejudices against some ingenious men^ I could tell him how frankly^ upon better information, they have been given up. The truth is, these petty cavils give no shock to a great character, which ever sustains itself by its own proper merits, and is sure to have justice done it, when the offensive splendour of those merits is withdrawn. For, as his great friend (to whom, and to dulness, the Bishop has long since atoned for any injustice, he might formerly have done to either), said divinely well, ^ Direct we feel their beam intensely beat ; These suns of glory please not till they set' " I am, Sir, " Your humble servant, " /. L. ''Mfly6, 1766." '^ To the Printer of the Public Advertiser. Sir, <€ " Observing in your paper of May 10 some strictures upon an Ode to T. Edwards, Esq., ascribed to Dr. Akenside, it brought to my mind another piece of poetry, entitled The Pleasures of Imagination, pub- LIFE OF AKENSIDE. 167 lished about twenty years ago^ and ascribed to the same author ; in which are the following lines : ' Others of graver mien, behold ; adom'd With holy ensigns^ how sublime they move^ And^ bending oft their sanctimoQious eyes. Take homage of the simple-minded throng, Ambassadors of heaven/ This passage, it seems, gave offence to the learned writer, who is supposed to be the subject of the little piece of satire inscribed to Mr. Edwards, above-mentioned ; and who, in a preface to some Remarks on several occO' sional Reflections, published in 1744, calls these lines ' an insult on the whole body of the Christian clergy ;' and comments upon them thus : — *' ' And well do they (the clergy) deserve this moral ridicule, supposing them to be drawn like : for, if I un- derstand any thing of colouring, the features are pride, hypocrisy, fraud, and imposture. I call it an insult on the whole body of the clergy, because I know of no part of them, who hold that the ministry of the Gospel (or, as St. Paul calls it, of Reconciliation), was given them by the religion of Christ, but hold likewise^ with the same apostle (who speaks of himself here as a simple minister of the Gospel), that they are ambassa- dors for Christ.* '' Whether Dr. Akenside intended the description, contained in these lines, for the whole body of the Christian clergy, must be left to his own conscience ; for I do not know, that he ever explained himself farther 168 LIFE OF AKENSIDC upon the subject. If he included the whole body of the clergy in the description^ it is, doubtless^ an insult upon them all ; but^ in my opinion^ there is no occasion to un- derstand the words in that extent. The lines contain a description of a sort of personal demeanour, which^ Dr. Akenside must have known^ is not common to all the clergy. And it is obvious enough^ that it cost the learned commentator some pains to accommodate the poetry with his inteTpretation. But let us now attend to another piece of poetry. *' In the year 1743 (the year immediately preceding the publication of this Reproof to Dr. Akenside) came out a pompous edition of the Dunciad in 4to^ enriched with some additional remarks as we are informed in an advertisement, placed immediately after the title leaf^ and signed with the initials W. W. The world (with what justice I pretend not to say) ascribed the addi^ tional Remarks to the same learned hand, who com- mented, as above, upon the passage, cited from Dr. Akenside's poem. '^ In this edition of the Dunciad, we meet with the following lines, at page 113. ' He ceas'd, and spread the robe -, the crowd confess The reverend Flamen in his lengthen'd dress. Around him wide a sable army stand, A low-bom, cell-bred, selfish, servile band. Prompt or to guard or stab, to saint or damn, Heav'n's Swiss, who fight for any God or man.' " On these we have the following additional remark : ' It is to be hoped, that the satire in these lines will be LIFE OF AKENSIDE. 169 understood in the confined sense, in which the author meant it^ oisuch only of Ike clergy, who, though solemnly engaged in the service of religion^ dedicate themselves to servile and corrupt ends^ to that of ministers or factions : and^ though educated under an entire ignorance of the world, aspire to interfere in the government of it, and consequently to disturb and disorder it,' &c. '^ How the remarker could hope this, as there is no more (if so much), in these lines, than in those of Dr. Akenside, to limit to a certain, such of the clergy only, I cannot perceive. He says, the author meant it so. If he did, he expressed his meaning very awkwardly; for the comment puts a restriction upon the text, which the words can, by no artifice, be brought to admit of; as the poet, beyond all shadow of a doubt, intended to characterize the religious as well as the political achieve- ments of these heavenly Swiss. In my opinion. Pope has given his description more of the air of an universal character, than the lines of Dr. Akenside exhibit ; and if I may have leave to go the round about way, after Dr. Akenside's commentator, I think I can prove it. For example ; the Swiss of Heaven must be soldiers in the pay of Heaven; and what clergyman, who professes to be a soldier of Jesus Christ, in view of the prize of his high calling, a crown of righteousness, but will ac- knowledge himself one of Heaven's Swiss: whereas, if I am rightly informed, the drudges of the ministry are looked upon, even by the order itself, rather to be the ambassadors of their superiors in office, than ambassa- dors immediately deputed by commissions from Heaven; 170 LIFE OF AKENSIDE* at leasts till they rise to stations^ in which the character may be supported with suitable dignity. *' I have not the pleasure to have the least personal knowledge of Dr. Akenside ; but from his general character must conclude, that he has no objection to connexions of esteem and friendship with ingenious and liberal-minded men among the English clergy, any more than with scholars and gentlemen of other professions : and as some of these would certainly not come under the description given in those lines of his, above cited ; it cannot be fairly supposed, he meant them for a satire upon the whole order, whatever his own religious senti- ments might be. *^Mr. Pope had quite other reasons for being dis- gusted with the English established clergy of his own times. He was a Roman Catholic; they were Pro- testants, whose principles and duty to the government were inducements to them to exercise their .attention and vigilance against the superstition and disloyalty of the members of the church of Rome, to the political as well as religious doctrines of which Mr. Pope betrays, in some of his writings, a very strong attachment, not- withstanding his affected neutrality on particular occa- sions. It is, therefore, highly probable, that his little piece of satire was intended to comprehend the whole body of the English clergy; and this the rather, as, when the verses were first penned, it is likely, he had no experience, that there was so remarkable an excep- tion to the general character, he had given of the clergy. LIFE OF AKENSIDE. 171 as he afterwards found in the course of his friendship with that steady^ pious^ simple-minded^ consistent^ hum- ble, and peaceable divine, to whom he consigned the sole privilege of commenting upon his works : for as to his connexions with Atterbury and Swift, he must be very sensible, with all his seeming friendship for them, that there was nothing in their characters, that would require to have the censure limited either with respect to them, or some others of the same stamp, with whom he might happen to have some accidental acquaintance. ^' I find, indeed, that it is a problem with some critics, whom I have consulted on the present occasion, whether if the connexion with Theobald, Concanen, Sec. had lasted a little longer, and if, during that connexion, and an estrangement from Mr. Pope, it had fallen within the province of the Remarker on Dr. Akenside's poem, to henoiify the Dunciad; it is, I say, a question of some people, whether, in that case, Mr. Pope would not have been chastised with as much severity as Dr. Akenside was, the year following, for insulting the whole body of the Christian Clergy. '^ I am. Sir, '^ Your humble servant, '^ CONTRASTBB." The opinions of Akenside were in strict accord- ance with Whig principles. Hence arose the ad- miration of Mr. HoLLis. That gentleman, however, extended his partialities so much farther than Aken- side, that he was actually, in principle, a Republican. 17^ LIFE OF AKENSIDE. Hence, when he purchased a bed, in 1761, which had once belonged to Milton, and in which that great poet died, he presented it to " that modem poet, whom he thought, not only in political senti- ments but in poetical genius, most resembled him." The bed was accompanied with the following note: " An English gentleman is desirous of having " the honour to present a bed, which once belonged " to John Milton, and on which he died ; and if Dr. Akenside, believing himself obliged, and having slept on that bed, should prompt him to write an ode to the memory of John Milton, and the assertor of British liberty, that gentleman " would think himself abundantly recompensed.'*' Akenside is said to have received the present with satisfaction ; but whether he wrote an ode, as re- quested, does not appear. It is most probable, that he did write one ; but that he could not please himself in the execution. Akenside was never a Republican; — he was an ardent supporter of the principles, which seated King William on the throne of this country. Mr. Dyson's opinions were the same; but, on the ac- cession of George the Third, and the elevation of Lord Bute, he had relaxed the severity of his de- clarations ; and having been admitted into the ad- LIFE OF AKENSIDE. 119 ministration, had sufficient influence to get his friend appointed Physician to the Queen, who was, every day, expected to land. Soon after Akenside's return from Holland, he had been admitted, by mandamtis^ to the same degree at Cambridge, that he had taken at Leyden. When that university sent up a congratulatory address to the King and Queen, on their marriage, there- fore, he accompanied the deputation : — ^but, having no band, he wrote to Dr. Birch to lend him one. " Dr. Akenside presents his compliments to Dr. " Birch, and begs the favour, that he would lend ^^him a band, in order that he may attend the Cambridge Address to-morrow. <( " Craven^street, "Sept. 13, 1761/ As there are only a few letters (or notes) of Akenside known to be in existence, except some to Mr. Dyson, which will be mentioned in a subse- quent page, perhaps I may be excused for intro- ducing two of them in this place. Their subjects are not very important; but having been written by so eminent a person, — unimportant as they are in other respects, they cannot be considered in any other light than as interesting curiosities. 174 LIFE OF AKENSIDE. " DEAR SIE, " I return you many thanks for the pleasure, " which 1 have had in reading these books. " I see, this instant, in the Public Advertiser, " that Dr. Warburton is made King's Chaplain, ** and enters into waiting immediately. Can you ** tell me, whether this is true ? If there be any hazard of finding him at Kensington, I shall not choose to go thither to-day. " I am your affectionate " humble servant, " M. AKENSIDE. " Bloomsbury-square, Saturday mom. Sept. 28. " To the Rev. Dr. Birch, " in Norfolk-street." 66 " Dr. Akenside presents his compliments to Dr. " Birch, and returns him many thanks for his kind " present. He has left an unpublished letter of " Lord Bacon, which he thinks a valuable one, and " which he had leave to communicate to Dr. Birch ; "and desires that when he has done with it, he " would be so good as to send it to Burlington- " street. " To the Rev. Dr. Birch. LIFE OF AKENSIDE. 175 These notes are preserved in MSS. at the British Museum. The deputation from Cambridge was attended by the chancellor and a considerable number of members of the university, Drs. Reeve, Akenside, and many other physicians. They were introduced to the King and Queen by the Duke of Newcastle, Chan- cellor of the University ; and to the Princess Dowager by the Duke of Manchester, Lord Chamberlain. Here we may pause a few moments, to notice a poetical impropriety, on the part of Akenside, not a little curious. He had been admitted^ as before stated, to a doctor'^s degree at Cambridge ; but a jealousy subsisting, at that time, between the Universities of Cambridge and Oxford, Akenside, in his Hymn to the Naiads, expressly mentions Cambridge, when his subject required him to mention Oxford: — since Oxford stands upon the Thames ; and it is to " The blue-eyed Progeny of Thames," that he addresses himself throughout the whole of his poem. tc Tarry, n3miphs! Ye nymphs ! ye blue-eyed Progeny of Thames ! Who now the mazes of this rugged heath Trace with your fleeting steps ; who all night long Repeat amid the cool and tranquil air Your lonely murmurs, tarry, and receive My ofFer'd lay." 176 LIFE OF AKENSIDE. The passage, to which I have referred, is this; '* From noon to eve. Along the river and the paved brook Ascend the cheerful breezes, hail'd of bards, Who, JIm^ by learned Cam, th' .^lolian lyre Solicit; nor unwelcome to the youth, Who on the heights of Tibur, all inclin'd. Or rushing Anio, with a pious hand The reverend scene delineates 3 broken fanes Or tombs, or pillar'd aqueducts, the pomp Of ancient time; and haply, while he scans The ruins, with a silent tear revolves The fame and fortune of imperious Rome." In 1762, Mr. Dyson resigned his clerkship of the House of Commons to Mr. Tyrwhitt*, and having been elected Member of Parliament for the borough of Haslemere, he became identified with many of the measures of Lord Bute ; as he became afterwards with . those of the Duke of Grafton and Lord North. * This gentleman is well known as the editor of Chaucer, and a part he took in the controversy in r^ard to Rowley's poems. But he has a higher praise, viz. that arising from his having been the early patron of Dr. Burgess, the present ex- cellent Bishop of Salisbury. *' Soon after I had published Dawes's Miscellanea Critica" says Dr. Burgess (then Bishop of St. David's, in a letter to Mr. Nichols t) ^^and was entering t Dated Aberguilly Palace, March 27, 1815. • LIFE OF AKENSIDE. 177 Mr. Justice Hardinge, who knew Mr. Dyson well, says, in a letter to Mr. Nichols, that he never saw any thing like the friendship of Mr, Dyson and Dr. Akenside. It extended even to their sen- timents; " and yet,'' says he, ** nothing could be more dissimilar than they were. Mr. Dyson was quite a man of business, of order, of parliamentary forms, and of political argument. He had neither fancy nor eloquence; and though he had strong prejudices, he veiled them in obliging manners." on the tenxi^ in which I was to take my master's d^ee, Mr. Tyrwhitt asked me^ ' how I meant to dispose of myself, after I had taken my degree ?' I told him it was my intention to take a curacy in the country^ till I should be called again to college to serve those offices, which are usually held by the fellows in rotation.' He said, 'You must not leave col- lege. In the country, and with your new duties, you would not have the means and opportunities of pursuing your old i^tudies, which the university possesses above all other places. You shall be my curate. I will beg you to accept, annually, from me what will be equivalent to a curate's stipend.' — I accepted his generous offer," continues the bishop, *^ and remained at college. I was soon after appointed to the office of college tutor. But Mr. Tyrwhitt continued his annual present till the emolument of my office enabled me to relin- quish a gratuity, which I knew he would bestow on some protege, who wanted it more than myself. The literary ad- vantages, which I derived from my continuing at college, at that time, and, of course, my obligations to my generous friend, are greater than I can express." N 178 LIFE OF AKENSIDE. Sir John Hawkins relates, in his Life of Dr. Johnson, that a person, named Saxby, who held a situation in the custom-bouse, and who was of that despicable order, who have the privilege of saying just what they please, was in the constant habit of venting his sarcasms against the medical profession. One evening, says Sir John, this man, after having laboured some time to prove^ that the profession of physic was all imposture, turned suddenly upon Akenside^— " Doctor,'' said he, " after all you have said, my opinion of the profession is this : — the an- cients endeavoured to make it a science and failed; and the modems to make it a trade, and succeeded.'' The company laughed, and Akenside joined in it with good humour. Sir John relates, also, another anecdote, relative to a low-minded man, named Ballow. This person was a lawyer of great learning, but of no practice ; full of spleen; of vulgar manners; and having some connexion with the government, he thought, as many persons, standing in the same relative situa- tion, would have the ignorance to believe, that he was entitled to hate Akenside, for those liberal sen- timents, which he seldom thought it necessary either to qualify or to disguise. A dispute, one evening, was the consequence; and Ballow having made use LIFE OF AKENSIDE. 179 of some expressioni^, little conforming with the manners of a gentleman, Akenside degraded him- self so far as to demand an apology. On this occa- sion Akenside seems to have been insensible to the beauty, and even sublimity, of that sentiment which teaches, that— " Affronts are innocent, when men are worthless." Ballow was courageous enough to insult, but not sufficiently so to pay the penalty. He, therefore, screened himself from punishment by keeping out of the way. Akenside's anger soon subsided; and then some mutual friends adjusted the difference. Sir John seems disposed to cast an air of ridicule over Akenside's conduct in this matter; but to challenge a man, like Ballow, must have been in itself a punishment to the sensitive mind of Aken- side, in itself sufficient, for having given way to a weakness so unworthy a poet of high rank, and more especially a philosopher of no mean order. Few men ever lived, who had a greater inward detestation of tyranny and bigotry, than Akenside. This feeling is indicated in all his poems ; and he had an equal contempt for hypocrisy. Consider- ing, with Shaftesbury*, that the Deity was the * Characteristics, ii. 294k. n2 180 LIFE OF AKENSIDE. sovereign source of all beauty, he was always in- dignant, when the name of that most wonderful Being was alluded to in a gross, vulgar, or indif- ferent manner. "People would assert,'' he was accustomed to say, " that I imitated Newton, or I should never allude to the Deity, or hear him alluded to by others, but I should make an inclination of my body.'' And one day, being in company with Mr. Meyrick's father at a coffee-house, in the neighbourhood of Charing-cross, having listened, for some time, with impatience to the oratory of a Mr. Wamefield, who was making some severe re- marks not only on Warburton*s Divine Legation of Moses, but on the Bible itself, he, at length, in- terrupted him. " I tell you what, sir," said he ; " Warburton is no friend of mine; — but I detest hearing a man of learning abused. As to the Bible —believe or not, just as you please ; but let it con- tain as many absurdities, untruths, and unsound doctrines, as you say it does, there is one passage, at least, that I am sure, you, with all your ingenuity, and with all the eloquence you possess, have not the power to surpass. , It is where the prophet says, * The children of men are much wiser than the children of light.' " And here I take pleasure in citing a passage sent . LIFE OF AKENSIDE. 181 to me by an octogenarian of great learning, who assures me, that he has every reason to think, that it formed part of a letter from Akenside to Dr. Grainger, author of the Sugar Cane *. " Your friend seems to doubt whether he has a soul or not ; and yet surely he will not attempt to. place himself on a level with Kepler ; and so far was he from doubting, that he had a soul, he gives one even to the earth itself "f".*" ** In respect to its nature,^^ said he, on another occasion, '^ it is past my judgment, whether material or immaterial. Perhaps it may partake of both natures. Tertul- lian not only makes the soul material ;[, but he gives • ** Grainger," says Dr. Percy, Bishop of Dromore, ** was not only a man of learning, but of excellent virtue ; one of the most friendly, generous, and benevolent men I ever knew." Grainger's Georgic is now chiefly known by the tale of Junio and Theana. There are, however, some fine passages in it; and many beautiful descriptions of tropical vegetation. ' f Probably^ Akenside alluded to the following passage :— " Denique terrce glottis tale corpus erit, quale est alicujus animalis : quidque animali est sua anima, hoc erit telluri hcBC, quam qucerimus, natura sublunaris," X '^ Nos autem animam corporalem, et hie profitemur, et in suo volumine probamus habentem proprium genus sub- stantia, et soliditatis, per quam quid, et sentire, et pad possit." — '^ Quis negavit Deum esse corpus." 182 LIFE OF AKENSIDE. a corporal body even to God himself; and Job says, * In my flesh I shall see God.' The Christian doc- trine^ also, implies it ; since it speaks of the resur- rection of the body. Certainly, every thing that exists must have shape ; and if shape, form ; and if form, substance. But there may be many sub- stances, and no doubt there are, beyond what we know of at present. Simplicius says, there is in nature an active principle and a passive one : the soul may partake of the same differences; the former principle, associating with light; the latter with colour. Maximus Tyrius makes even a bolder a^ sertion ; for, he says, that God's oracles and men's understandings are of near alliance. Hence the assertion of Proclus, that all our souls are the chil* dren of God. But the fact is, we know little of these things. It is a great satisfaction, however, that we live in a world, presenting, every moment, something to exercise our faculties; and that the grand mover of the whole will, no doubt, make ample allowances for human infirmity.*" Akenside, however, seldom conversed on subjects of this kind. They are very dangerous for medical men to touch upon. The religious creed of Akenside, if we may j udge by his poem, seems to have associated LIFE OF AKENSIDE. 183 with that of Lord Shaftesbury*,— pure theism : but that he had a high respect for the Christian Reve- lation, and a profound reverence for the Christiaa doctrine, is very evident from his ode to the Bishop of Winchester, and that to the author of the Me. moirs of the House of Brandenburg. There is, perhaps, a still more striking proof of his respect for Christianity. For, when a boy, I remember hear- ing Sir Grey Cooper, Bart,, read a paraphrase of the Benedicite, which, he told my father, was written by Akenside. " I know it has been attributed to other persons,*" said Sir Grey, " but I have very good reasons for believing, that it was written by Akenside ; and I am proud of it ; for Akenside was a townsman of mine ; and I remember hearing, that he was, also, author of one of the Christmas Carols f * See Characteristics, ii. U, 71, 72, 73, 74, 267, 268, 358. —Ed. 1737. f Mr. Brand alludes to Carols of this kind in his observa- tions on Popular Antiquities. (See Ellis's edition, vol. i; 350, 4to.) ^' J. Boeraus Aubanus tells us, that in Franconia, on the three Thursday nights of our Lord, it is customary for the youth of both sexes to go from house to house, knocking at the doors, singing their Christmas Carols^ and wishing a happy new year. They get, in return, at tho houses, they stop at, pears, apples, nuts, and even money. '' Little troops of boys and girls still go about, in this very manner, at Newcastle-upon-Tyne, and other places in the 1st LIFE OF AKENSIDE. which used to be sung about the streets of New- castle many years ago." This paraphrase we do not Tenture, however, to insert ; since, had it really been written by Akenside, it would, assuredly, have been inserted in Mr. Dyson's edition of 177^. It is too beautiful to have been omitted. SiE Grey Cooper was bom at Newcastle-upon- Tyne, and was bred to the profession of a barrister; and a speech still remains upon record, delivered by him at the bar of the House of Commons, which may perhaps be cited as one of the best, ever de- livered on a mere local subject*. He wrote a pamphlet, entitled " A Pair of Spectacles Jbr Short- sighted Politicians^'^ which had the good fortune to recommend him to the ministry of the day ; and he became, subsequently. Member of Parliament for the borough of San against the Bill^ * for the more effectually preventing the mischiefs arising to the revenue and commerce of Great Britain and Ireland, from the illicit and clandestine trade to and fram the Isle of Man.'" LIFE OF AKENSIDE. 185 Treasury, during the whole administration of Lord North. His use to that minister, on particular oc- casions, is thus illustrated in the correspondence of Sir John Sinclair *• '^ Lord North was often lulled into a profound sleep by the omniferous oratory of some of the parliamentary speakers. Sir Grey Cooper (one of the Secretaries of the Treasury)^ meanwhile took notes of the principal arguments of his opponents, which^ by glancing his eye over the paper^ Lord North was enabled immediately to answer. On a naval question^ a member thoiight proper to give an historical detail of the origin and progress of ship-buildings which he deduced from Noah's Ark^ and in regular order brought down to the Spanish Armada. Sir Grey^ inadvertently^ awoke his lordship at this period; who asked^ to what era the honourable gentle- man had arrived ? Being told^ ' to the reign of Queen Elizabeth^' he instantly replied, * Dear Sir Grey, why did you not let me sleep a century or two more ?' " On the resignation of Lord North, Sir Gre^ retired into private life. Having spent all the earlier part of my life in the village and neighbourhood to which he retired, I had many opportunities of seeing and conversing with him. He had a small temple or summer-house, in a remote part of the village, called the Hall-Gbove. This summer-house was * Vol. i. p. 76. 186 LIFE OF AKENSIDE. generally kept unlocked, and every one might go into it that pleased. I frequently availed myself of this liberty ; and one day found a copy of Aken- side, which had been left on the table by one of Sir Grey's family ; and seating myself on a small parapet, overhung with jessamine, honey-suckles, and clematis, opened the book, and imbibed, for the fiist time, that ardent admiration of the works of this poet, which has continued through life^ and led at last to the presumption of endeavouring to illustrate his life, writings, and genius*. Sir Grey was rather haughty, when displeased ; but the most condescending of men, when in good humour. He had great dignity in his deportment ; was of a kind and humane disposition ; and one of the best and most indulgent of parents. One day my father charged me with the deliverance of a letter, when Sir Grey took me into his private apartment, and presented me with a copy of two poems, he had printed for the use of his friends. One of these I presume to insert, — either out of gratitude or resentment, — for having first awakened * Bowles. '^ The influence of the imagination, on the conduct of life, is one of the most important points in moral philosophy. It were easy, hy an induction of facts, to prove, that the imagination directs almost all the passions, and mixes with almost every circumstance of action or pleasure." — Akenside. LIFE OF AKENSIDE. 187 in me an ambition to be remembered a few short days beyond the hour of death. *' TO THE NYMPH OF THE FOUNTAIN OF TEARS. t( Hail^ pious nymph ! whose guardian power The holy spring of Tears protects^ And each soft drop and tender shower From tl^ mysterious source directs: ^' Not tears^ that^ on th' approach of death, Down the pale cheek of tyrants roll. When Conscience, to the latest breath. Holds up the mirror to the soul : '^ Nor such as moisten the dark cells Where, midst the slaves the rack prepare. The stem inquisitor compels E'en godlike virtue to despair. ^' These bitter waters of distress Arise from other springs than thine; Springs, which infernal gnomes possess, Dread ministers of wrath divine ! €C t< Heaven gives to\hee the sacred part Of watching the pure streams, that flow From the soft motions of the heart. That learns to feel another's woe : To raise the head by care depress'd. With gentle, delicate, relief; To pour into the wounded breast The balm of sympathetic grief.- 188 LIFE OF AKENSIDE. '^Sach soothing offices engage Thy sylphs, the messengers of gnce^ Sent by thy order to assuage The sorrows of the human race. '^ To thee belong the gashing riUs Of sadden joy and glad surprise^ The rapt soul's transport, that distils Glistening in th' expressive eyes. *^ Let me, thy suppliant^ take my part In all thy pleasures, all thy pains ; And ne'er, though exquisite the smart, Of sensibility complain : ** Oft let me leave the busy scene. Devotion at thy shrine to pay ; Oft taste with thee the calm serene Evening of a well-spent day ; *' And, in thy grotto's hallow'd shade. Gaze at the children of the world. In vanity's light barks convey'd. With every glittering sail unfurl'd: ** Smile at the obeat, for what they choose In each fond wish and fickle mood; And pity them for what they lose — The power divine of doing good. €< View the mild glory round the throne. Love with obedience command; For other's rights maintain its own^ And rule to bless a grateful land. LIFE OF AKENSIDE. 189 " To cheer me in the vale of tesm. Stilly pensive nymph ! thy grace impart. Still let thy spring of tender tears Enlarge and purify my heart; ** For with those social feelings glow The hest affections of the mind; The warmth of friendship, and the glow Of charity to all mankind*." * The following letters, which have lately appeared in the Garrick correspondence, are important in more lights than one : — ** Tuesday morning, " MT DEAR OARBICK, *' I GIVE you my most cordial thanks for the de- light I received last night ; and Lord North commands me to express his obligation to you in the strongest manner. I cannot go in comfort to my wife and children at Windsor, till I am assured, that you have not suffered for this ioimi- taUe exertion of yoi^ powers. I never remember to have seen or heard you greater, tarn in conciiatis quant in remissis qjffectilnu, which Quintilian says of Cicero in one of his finest orations. I beg my compliments to Mrs. Garrick. I saw her stooping from her doud and gazing at you. I thought the spirit of Shakspeare was, probably, doing the same, and with equal applause. By the by, why should not those fine lines, in the Essay on Man, be applied to your demi-god, as well as Newton ? ^ Superior beings, when of late they saw A mortal man unfold all nature's law,' &c. " I am, my dear sir, very affectionately yours, *' Gret Cooper." 190 LIFE OF AKENSIDfi. Among the friends of Akenside may be, also, mentioned Mr. We ay ; to whom Mr. Edwards ad- '^ Parliament Street, March 14, 1771. *' MY DEAR SIB, '^ I WILL not fail to use my best endeavours to obtain what you request, and I am well assured, that Lord North will receive the application with a favourable im- pression, as it comes from you. At the same time I must acquaint you, that the same indulgence, which Mr. R. Burke desires, was, last year, refused to Mr. Haliday, the collector of Antigua, on the ground of his having been only one year at- tending his duty, since his former leave of absence expired. This is the very case of Mr. Richard Burke; but as my heart always inclines me to go beyond the severe rules of my fluty, in soliciting the petitions of the lowest officers of the crown, when they apply for leave of absence on account of their health, or the urgency of their private affairs, even when the facts do not come so well vouched, as they ought to be by the rules of office, I cannot refuse my assistance to the recommendations of a friend, whoip upon much greater occasions I should be happy to oblige. Lord North is the best'tiatured man in the world, and I know, he will as readily do a favour, or grant a reasonable indulgence, to the brother of Mr. £. Burke, as to any of those who stand in the rank of his political friends. Nothing but public consideration, and the tendency of the example, can prevent him from granting what is requested. ^' I am, my dear sir, with the truest regard, your very faithful servant, " Gret Cooper." Endorsed, " Sir Qrey Cooper, March 17, 1771. " Bichard Burke," LIFE OF AKENSIDE. 191 dressed a sonnet, peculiarly characteristic of their different fortunes in life. ec Treasury Chambers. ''March 18,1771. '' DEAB SIR, (f I HAVE the pleasure (because I know it will give you pleasure) to acquaint you, that I have obtained Lord North's permission to order a warrant for granting leave of absence to Mr. Richard Burke for one year. " By some expressions in your last letter, you seem to misunderstand what I wrote to you. I never conceived, that any gentleman should he refused an ordinary and rea- sonable indulgence on account of his political conduct; much less that of his relations. The warrant will, I hope, be signed to-morrow. *' I am, my dear sir, yours ever most faithfully, " Gbey Cooper." ** Parliament Street, Nov. 8, 1771. " MY DEAB SIB, " I HAVE received your letter this morning, and sent it to Ladt Noeth. She and my lord must be much pleased with the polite offer you make them of your charming viUa; though I should suppose, that my lord's business (which grows upon him every hour we get nearer to parliiM- roent) will not suffer him to avail himself of it. I attended her ladyship and my wife last night to the play. How I was mortified that I did not see you, and how grieved for the cause of your absence ! I beg to know particularly how you do : I would have waited upon you, if I had not been still very lame, of a sprained ande. Mr. R. Burke has called on me, and I have returned his visit. Junius writes again to-day both in the shape of a letter and a card. 192 LIFE OF AKENSIDE. - '' Wbjly, whose dear friendship in the dawning years Of undesigning childhood first hegan. Though youth's gay morn with even tenour ran. My noon conducted, and my evening cheers. " With regard to the subject of your former letter, my constant conduct and language have been, that though, in read-' ing the letters, I was often led to conjecture and to believe, that they were written by thai person *, I as often felt myself restrained and controlled from entertaining such suspicions, by the solemn declarations, and the parole of the honour of a gentleman, which I had heard from you he had given, and which every oENTLEMAir holds more sacred than his LIFE. '* I am, my dear sir, yours most truly, " Grey Cooper/ »f MR. GARRIOK TO SIR 6RET COOPER. " Adelphi, Feb. I, U74^ " MY DEAR SIR, '' It is not possible for me to believe, what my servant tells me, nay I should scarce have believed my own eyes, had I seen it. He tells me, that you in company with a certain lord, whom I most honour and would soonest obey, called yesterday at the Adelphi ! Impossible ! I beg and beseech you, my good friend, not to make me too vain ; but if there are any commands to either of the Indies ; if it is * Mr. Edward Burke. Since Sir Grey entertained this opinion, it is most probable, that Lord North did the same ; and there are few things more remarkable in the history of that mystery. LIFE OP AKENSIDlfi. 193 Rightly dost thou^ in whom combined appeurs. Whatever for public life Qompletes the nian> : With native zeal strike out a larger plan^ No useless friends of senators and peers ; Me talents moderate^ and smaU estate^ Fit for retirement's unambitious shade. Nor envy I> who ne'er approach the throne, But joyful see thee mingle with the greats And praise my lot^ contented with my own *." thought proper that I should be commander-in-chief; or if I should be fixed to make the Bostonians drink tea^ as they ought^ or send them after the tea into the Atlantic^ — pray let me know directly^ that I may resign the kingdoms of England and Scotland^ in the persons of Richard the Third and Macbethj and prepare to go any where^ as that noble lord should be pleased to command me. " I am your most obliged and obedient^ " D. Garbick." Reply, ■ " MY DEAR SIB, " The wit and pleasantry of your letter have delighted us all. Lord North cannot afford, either on the account of his taste or his popularity, to send the favourite of the nation to such barbarous places as Bengal or Boston. He hopes, however, that you will soon prove, that you have neither abdicated nor deserted the kingdoms of Scotland or England. '' Ever yours most faithfully, " Grey Cooper;" * The character of Mr. Wray is thus sketched by Mr. Justice Hardinge. o 194 tIFB OF AKENSIDE. Akeoflide having completed, in 1766, the second book of his new poem on the Imagination, took ^' It may appear^ at the first glance of it^ a paradox, but, I betieve, it will be found correct, when it is analysed, and compared with experience, to say, that nothing is more difficult than to gire the portrait of a singular man; — I mean the features and the countenance of his mind. I shall, Uierefore, only attempt a faint impression of a deportmeni and of a manner , the most original, that I ever knew. '^ Mr. Wray had a yiyadty, and laughing air, half ludi- crous, yet exciting no ridicule, and bordering upon levity, but never too near it — more juvenile at least than his age; but in this comic humour he was never coarse, or ill«bred; was never too free, and never ill-natured. He was blesied with a power to make instruction jdeasant, which no coloors can reach. ** I have known men of distinguished parts, and wit, who seem to have got by heart a whole string of epigrams in prose, and bon mots, to be let off in the course of the day. Shakspeare, who was at home in every human character, and walked in every path of it, says of those men, as r^resented by one of his dramatic figures^ ' This fellow picks up wit, as pigeons pease. And utters it again, as Jove doth please.' '^ Horace describes the jester of his day : *facetos Qui capiat risus hominum, famamque dicacis.' '^ Mr. Wray had no such ambition ; he was above it: all his whims of thought, fancy, or expression, were not only his own, but were prompted by the casual impulse of the LIFE OF AKEMSIDE. 195 occasion, the following year, to read it to Lord and Lady Dacre, at their seat, called Mount Ararat. This circumstance is related by Mr, Wray in a letter to one of his friends *. ^' I was at Mount Ararat to attend Lord and Lady Dacre^ accom- panied by AJcenstde, who passed the evening there, and communicated the second and part of a third book in his great work. In the former, and in the * Sept. 83< 1766. moment He bad a right even to be as dull^ as he was brilliant^ from his perfect indi^rence to the effbct of all, that he said, except that he was happy in communicating pleasure to those around him. ^ In general society he had no imperious air of the pedant, or fopperies of taste. He had no oracles to deliver ; no littie senate for his laws; but ^ spared his oton strength^,' in wisdom or in wit. He had a light and familiar note, that made its party good with boys and girls. He rather said in a lively and comic style what carried the weight of a power- ful intellect, than what are foolishly called ^good things' '* I can remember a thousand bons mots of those toits pro^ Jessed, Chesterfield, Horace Walpolb, and Selwyn. Of Wray, I recollect none : and it is not because they did not exist; it is because they were melted into something better and superior.** — Nichols' Illustrations. t Parcentibus viribus. — Hor. o2 196 UFK OP AKBNSIDKf iune philosophical way, he is eloquent oa the topics pf truth and virtue, vice and the passions. In the latter, Solon is introduced ^ving a fable on ^ criffin ofeM. It is introduced by an episode from Herodotus of ArgavisUta Marriage, the daughter tfClinihenes^ which is delightfully poetical." In 1768 Akenside published three essays in the Medical Transactions. 1. On Cancers ; 2. On the Use of Ipecacuanha in Asthmas ; 3. On the best Method of treating White Swellings of the Joints. 1. In the first he gives an instance of a cancer in utero, which was cured by the cicuta and the bark ; one, in which a cancer in the tongue was cured by the cicuta, corrosive sublimate, and the bark ; and a third, in which a cancered lip was cured in the same manner; with this difference, that the cicuta, having removed the pains, which was all that could be expected from it, was laid aside at the end of ten jdays. 2. In respect to asthmas, Akenside directs, that where the indisposition is chronical and habitual, from three to five grains of ipecacuanha every morning. " The effects,'' says the author, *'do not depend on exercise, or the action of vomiting ; but upon the antispasmodic virtues of ipecacoan." 3. In regard to white swellings of the joints. ttFE OF AKENSlDXT. l97 Akeiiside recommends the applicatibn of a blister found the part affected; which he directs to be kept open, and reduced to such a size, as the nature of the complaint may seem to require: but nothing, he adds, is to be expected from this treatment^ when there is any sensible collection of fluid within the joint. Having been appointed Krohnian Lecturer, Akenaide chose for his subject the History of the Revival of Learning; and he read three lectures on that comprehensive theme before the College of Physicians. But some of the members having justly remarked, that the subject was foreign to the purposes of that institution, he declined proceeding farther. About the same period he read an account of some observations, he had made at St. Thomases Hospital, on the putrid erysipelas. ' These observa- tions he intended for the second volume of the Medical Transactions ; but death prevented theii^ publication *, * It has been generally believed that there are several MSS. of Akenside at the Collie of Physicians^ or at the Cofl^e of Surgeons. This, however^ is not the fact; as may be seen by the following letters :>-^ 198 LIFE OF AKENSIDB. I shall now say something of my old and respected friend, Mr. Mejrrick. He lived in Swallow-street many years, and died at Hammersmith in 1807. When I was first introduced to him, which was in the early part of that year, he shook me so cordially by the hand, at parting, that it ached for many minutes afterwards. He was, nevertheless, far fhxn tt Royal College of Surgeons, Oct. U, 1831. « 8I& '* '' In reply to your letter of yesterday I have to acquaint you that I do not find^ among the papers^ preserved at this College^ any MSS. or memoranda whatever^ relating to Dr. Akenaide. '' I am. Sir, '' Your most obedient humble senranty ^* Edmund Bblfoub.* « CoOege of Physicians, Oct. 2d, 1831. " 8XB, '^ I am requested by Si& Henry Halfobd, President of ihe Royal College of Phyacians, to inform you that thero are no MSS. or other papers relating to Dr. Akenside, to be found in the College Library j and to assure you, that had there been any such, every facility of access to them would have been readily affbrded to you. '' I have the honour to be. Sir, *' Your obedient servant, ** Francis Hawkins, M. D. '^ To Charles Bucks, Esq." lilFE OF AKENSIDB. 199 beiDg rough or nide in his manners. He was, on the contrary, good-nature itself. He had a great dislike to be thought to have more information, than he really had, and was strongly averse to any thing like authorship. ^^ I have known many authors,'' he would say, *^ but I never saw any thing in their fortunes or phyaognomies to envy.*" " I '11 tell you a witty saying of mine,'' said he, one day. ^^ Glover came once into my shop ; and putting a prescription into my hand, desired me to make it up for him. < I think I am coming to a sad p(i88y said he ; * my health declines daily .^ ^ No,' siud I ; < no, sir, you are not yet come to a sad pms; for if you were, you could not have made Leonidas fight so gallantly at the pa^s of Thermo- pylcd^ Glover," continued he, " was one of the best men I ever knew. Some people want us to believe, that he wrote Junius's letters. Why, he was a friend of Mr. Dyson ; could he, therefore, write of Mr. Dyson as Junius did P Besides, the Duke of Bedford had done him several small pieces of service. It is a libel upon human nature to suppose such a thing." Junius, indeed, wrote very irreverendly of Mr. Dyson. Soon after his resignation of the clerkship of the House of Commons, Mr. Dyson was appointed 900 LIFE OF AKEN3IDE* Secretary to the Treasury. In 1768 he was ap- pointed on0 of the Lords of the Treasury, under the Duke of Grafton, in conjunction with Lord North (Chancellor of the Exchequer), Mr. Onslow, the once celebrated Charles Jenkinson, and Mr. Charles Townsend . He does not appear to have been a very eloquent debater, nor indeed a frequent speaker: but his opinions were always characterised by plain,' practical, common dense; and as his name must always command great respect, and even reverence, for the magnificence of his conduct to Akenside, the insertion of one of his speeches, by way of specimen,, cannot fail to be interesting. - •* Jan, 9, 1770.— We have been told, sir, in a laboured harangue (from Mr. Serjeant Glynn), that we have lost the love and confidence of the people ; that an honour- able gentleman, who has reproached us with betraying our trust, has spoken the sentiments of the people ; that we are, at this moment, in danger of being called to an account by the people ; that the people are ready to do themselves justice upon us; and that we should be aware what we do, because the people, whom, by one . of those rhetorical flourishes, which are so useful, on other occasions, he calls the avenger, is at the door. Sir, it is hard to say. whether this insult is more gross against this house, or the people. Is the rabble, tliat is now supposed to be gathered about the door, the LIFE OF AKBNSIDE. 201 jieople? Are the writers of the newspapers^ who wish £»r. a prison or the pillory^ that their libels may be thought more important^ the people ? The people ard too greats too respectable a body^ to became the tool^ the. puppet of any faction. They are not to be hired to^ halloo and hiss with porter and geneva ; they are not to be brought gaping to an inn^ by such tricks and de-« tices, as gull clowns at a fair. An honourable gentle- man has told us^ that he did not seek petitioners ; but that petitioners sought him : — but it is well known^ that though this may be true in appearance^ it is £dse in fact. When a great man has a mind to be thus sought; intimations are given to proper persons^ that they must seek him ; a few stanch friends meet together^ with an invitation to the great man, drawn up by himself, in their pocket. When this is formally sent to him, he graciously vouchsafes to attend. A general meeting is then proposed ; advertisements are inserted in the news* papers; cards of invitation are every where distributed; and agents attend on market days at inns and alehouses, to see, who can be picked up by the influence of a cus- tomer, or the hopes of a treat. The great man receives- another copy of the invitation to himself; and he again deigns to accept it. When he comes, he is pressed to take the chair, as has been preconcerted, and thus he is happily sought and found. From the chair he relates what he has heard from the minority of this bouse, of wicked ministers and injured liberty; taking care to suppress the arguments^ by which the majority support the wisdom of parliament and the rectitude of adminis« 20S ];.IFE OF AKENSIDE. tradon ; and then^ produdng a petitiim, hands are ool- lectedy like money at the church-door for a brief; and when this rhapsody of malice and sedition, in which ma- jesty and ministry are involved in one general charge of combining against the constitution, is brought up to insult the king and disgrace government, we are told it is the sense of the people ! We have been superdliously warned of tyranny, and told^ that it is advaneing against us in hasty strides. I am an enemy to tyranny, sir ; and, therefore, I cannot without indignation hear this house threatened with the most preposterous and horrid of all tyranny, that of a mob. To insinuate, that the Pleasures of a legislative body should be influenced by echoes of sedition from the rabble, is to insinuate, that all government should be at an end. It Is to restrain those^ with whose vengeance we are now threatened, that all government is instituted ; and if they are not restrained, a state of nature will return, and the earth will be filled with violence and oppression, under the pretence of liberty and justice. If our liberties are in danger, it is from those, who have set up the cry ; it is from those, who insult both majesty and administration ; and not from those who would support the best of princes, in the exercise of constitutional rites, and the measures to which he gives the sanction of his authority.*' Jan. 26, 1769. — Mr. Dyson spoke in favour of Lord North's measures, in regard to America. March 15, 1T70.— He spoke on the subject of LIFE 0£ AKENSIDE. SOS the Remonstrance of the dty of London to the king. March S8 (same year). — He spoke against Mr. Grenyille^s bill for regulating the trials of contested elections. Feb* ST) 1771.—- He spoke against a bill, intro* duced to repeal a clause in the act for quieting the possession of the subject, called the nullum tempest act* ApnL 25f 1T71. — He spoke on the Shoreham bill: and on March 2, 1773, he delivered his sen- timents in favour of the bill, introduced by Sir Henry Hoghton, for the further relief of his ma- jesty^s protestant subjects, dissenting from the church of England. These are all the instances, recorded, in which Mr. Dyson took any prominent part in the debates of the house ; but as debates were not published in those times, in the manner they are at present ; it is impossible now to ascertain how frequently he otherwise spoke, on what subjects, and to what purport. In February, 1770, we find him resigning his situation of a Lord of the Admiralty in favour of Mr. Fox, upon a pension being granted him on the Irish establishment, for his own life and those of his S04 LIPE 01^ A1C£NSID£. three sions. This pension, however, he did not eil^ joy quite two years. It was taken up in the Irish house of parliament, upon the ground of its being an unnecessary charge upon that country ; and on a division Mr. Dyson lost his pension by a ma-^ jority ofone*. On this occasion Mr. Flood made one of those furious attacks, for which he was so greatly remarkable. " Of all the burthens which it has pleased government to lay upon our devoted nhoulders,^ said Mr. Flood, " that, which is the subject of the present debate, is the most grievous and intolerable. Who does not know Jeremiah Dyson, Esq.? We know little of him indeed^ otherwise than by his name in our pension list ; but there are others, who know him by his actions. This is he, who is endued with those happy talents, that he has served every administration, and served every one with equal success, — a civil, pliable, good-- natured gentleman, who will do what you will, and say what you please, for payment."" Mr. Flood was here interrupted. " The honour-^ able gentleman,*' said a member, " ought to pay more respect to Mr. Dyson, as one of his majesty'^s officers, and, as such, on whom his majesty was graciously pleased to repose confidence in.^ • Nov. 25, 1771. LIFE OF AKENSIDE. ^5 . "As to the royal confidence,'' answered Mr. ^Flood, "reposed in Mr. Dyson, his gracious ma^ jesty (whom God long preserve) has been graciously lavish of it, not only to Mr. Dyson, but to the friends of Mr. Dyson ; and I think the choice was good: the royal secrets will, I dare say, be very secure in their breasts, not only for the love tliey bear to his gracious majesty, but for the love they bear themselves. In the present case, however, we Ao not want to be informed of that part of Mr. Dyson's character — we know enough of him,— every body knows enough of him. Ask the British treasury — the British council — ask any English- man who. he is, what he is, — they can all tell you, for the gentleman is well known. But what have we to do with him? He never served Ireland, nor the friends of Ireland. And if this distressed king- dom was never benefited by his counsel, interest, or service, I see no reason why this kingdom should reward him ! Let the honourable members of this house consider this, and give their voices accord- ingly. For God's sake, let every man consult his .conscience: — If Jeremiah Dyson, Esq. shall be found to deserve this pension, let it be continued; if not, let it be lopped off our revenue as burthen- some and unnecessary." 206 LIFE OF AKENSIDE. In respect to politics, it is wise to pass no judg- ments. Like every other man, Mr. Dyson had a right to think for himself. For my own part I have seen so many patriotic talkers tyrants in their own fields, houses, circles, and neighbourhoods ; and so many advocates for aristocratical power mild, gentle, and conciliating, that I have long ceased to form judgments of men, grounded on the questionable basis of poHtical opinion. Mr. Dyson thought for himself, and acted for himself. As a private cha^ racter, he appears to have been highly estimable. « He was an exceHent father,'' says Mr. Hatsell, who dedicated to him the second volume of his precedents of the proceedings of the House of Com- mons ; ^^ of comprehensive knowledge, acuteness of understanding, and inflexible integrity, great know- ledge of history in general, and of the laws and constitution of this country in particular.'' As the friend and patron of Akenside he must always be reverenced, and can never be forgotten *. * Mr. Dyson survived his friend rather mcnre than six years. He died Sept 16^ 1776^ universally respected and beloved. At the time of his deaths he was M. P. for Hor9- ham> a member of the Privy Council^ and cofferer to the housdiold of George the third. There are two letters^ still extant^ in MS.^ in which Mr. \ Dyson is mentioned, from the celebrated Adam SMimf to LIF£ OP AKENSIDE. 907 The whole oorrespondence of Akenside with Mr. Dyson, if preserved, would have been, doubtless, Dr. Roebuck of Birmingham. These letters are very re- markable ;— not so much as they respect Mr. Dyson, as they are in r^ard to the methods, which they developej pursued by the administration (of which Mr. Dyson was a member), in respect to the British colonies in America. '' MY DEAB FRIEND, *' This letter is wrote to you in perfect oon« fidence, and at the particular detnre of a man of very con- siderable consequence in this country. The contents of it must be kept as secret as possible, even tho' you should be disposed to comply with the proposal. If, after having read and maturely considered it, you should not be dii^osed to comply vdth it, I will beg the favour of you to thnno it in ihejire* ** By the latest accounts from the Congress in America, it iq^pears, that the Deputies from Maryland, New York, Pei^ sylvania, and New Hampshire, all firmly opposed a non-im- portation agreement as absurd and ineffectual; they proposed to try the interest of the Colonies in England, by sending a de» putation with a petition to the King and Parliament: and to endeavour to accommodate matters with the mother coun- try, in the best manner that they could. This measure was likely to be adopted, when letters arrived from Dr. Franklin, recommending a non-importation agreement, as the measure most likely to interest the merchants of £ng^d in thdr favour, and to bring petitions to Parliament from all the principal manufacturing towns, praying a repeal of the kUe acts, relating to the town of Boston, and colony of Massa- diusset's Bay. These letters altered entirely the disposition 208 LIFE OF AKENSIDE. a high treat to the intellectual reader. Only a small portion of that correspondence, however, re- t>f the Congress. The deputies of New York^ however^ being OQn?inoed of the impropriety of the non-importation agree- inent^ but not being able to prevent it^ were endeayouring to evade it by modifying it A general non-importation agreement was allowed^ on all hands^ to be absurd ; as there were some commodities^ which they could not do without. These necessary commodities were not the same in all the different colonies. It was necessary^ therefore^ to r^^ulate what commodities bhould be excluded only from certain colonies. This was the state of the debates when the last letters came away. '^ In the mean time, Franklin's agents, assisted by some of the worst and most unprincipled members of the opposition, have been extremely active in some of the principal manu- facturing towns of the North, particularly among the dis- senters, to prepare the people for making and supporting such petitions. ' '' There is nothing so much wanted, at present, as a man of known probity, candour, and judgment, and of esta-* blished credit and authority in these towns, who would take tome pains to explain to the principal people the nature and probable effects of this scheme: that it is in reality nothings less, than an infamous conspira/:y to dismember the British empire, ** If, under pretence of your own private business, you could undertake, as soon as possible, for there is very little time to lose, a journey through Manchester, Birmingham, Leeds, Sheffield, &c., and, on seeing your friends, explain to them, in a proper manner, the real state of the case, you would be received here, by the principal members of administration. LIFE OF AKENSIDE. 209 mains; and this, it is hoped, will be, one day, given to the world. as a person, who had rendered the most important service to the state. *^ If there was any hope, that we should ever see your friend Dtson in the state of health, in which you left him, there is nothing, I am sure, would give him so much plea- sure, or increase so much, if that be possible, the cordial esteem he has always had for you. By the accounts I had from his house to-day, I find he continues better, and, it is to be hoped, is out of immediate danger, but still not what he was. " Franklin said, some years ago, in the presence of a par- ticular friend of mine, with much triumph, that whatever measures Great Britain might choose to pursue, with regard to her colonies, whether mild or vigorous, they would equally tend to bring about this great and desirable event of the en- tire independency of America. Be assured, that this is his determined purpose; which to his friends, he makes no scruple of avowing. Will you sufibr your friends to be made the tools of this* the worst citizen I ever knew in Grreat Britain. ** I received, some weeks ago, a letter from Mr. Johnson. His project lies a little out of my road, as I know few mer- cantile people here. Diligent inquiry, however, neither has been, nor shall be wanting. I shall write to him, as soon as I know with certainty, whether I can or cannot be of any ♦The following words are lined in the MS. — ^* proud, supercilious, and malignant knave, without any exception, the worst citizen," &c. P 910 LIFE QF AKSKSIDE. «< Newgravcj Pettvorth^ Oct. 7, 18S1^ « SIS, ** I received yesterday from my *)ii your letter, requesting ' to be informed whether Dr. use to him. Bemember me to Mrs. Soelmck and to aU llie young gentlemen^ and let me hear from you soon. ^' I ever am, my dear frioid, <« Most faithfully yours, (Sign^) ^A.BmTa. " Sujffblk Street, Charing Cross, No. 37. « \7th Nov. 1774." '^ MY ]>KA& WSLfSND, " I shall be^n this letter with a drcumstanoe^ which I am sare> will he agreeable. Your friend, Mr.. Drsoy, is in a fair way towards a complete recovery. He sits up the greater part of the day ; his spirits are yery good^ and his judgment, memory, and speech are all restored; ^^ Your letter of the 28th of November, I communicated to the Solicitor-general *, who desired leave to keep it for some days, till he had an opportunity of showing it to Lord North, and conversing with him at leisure on the sul^ect* His Iprdship, as well as my friend, expressed the highest satisfaction at the honest zeal which your letter expressed, as well as the highest confidence in the prudence, with which they expect you will conduct thir business. They both consider themselves, as well as the state, as under very par- * Mr. Wedderburne, afterwards Lord Loughborough. LIFE OF AKENSTDE. 211 Akenside had left any papers^ that could be in- teresting to his 'numerous appreciators and ad- mirers.' " I have only some letters from him to my father, in the early period of their friendship (from 1742 to 1745), which I looked at yesterday evening. Th6re are passages in them which show the warmth of his heart, the extent of his classical knowledge, and the highness of his mind. But I doubt whether they would now interest the public ; and as my father never communicated them to any editor of his friend's life, you will think me justified in follow- ing his example. ticular obligations to you; and^ when you come to town^ will be very happy in any opportunity of expressii^ their sense of so important a service. Leeds^ I find^ is the town that is most suspected^ and where the discontented party have been making the greatest efforts to procure petitions. K petitions cannot be prevented altogether, the expedient, you propose, of counter-petitions is certainly the beat. I shall be very happy to hear from you in the course of your journey. I ever am, my dear sir, ^^ most faithfully yours, (Signed) '* A. Smith. « " SujffbUe Street, No, «7, Charing Cross, « 9ih Dec. 1774." p2 ^19 LIFE OF AKENSIDE. " With every acknowledgmeDt of thfe terms in which you speak of my father, " I remain, Sir, '* Your obedient servant, *' J. Dyson. ** Charles Buche, Esq^ Akenside was a great admirer of Gothic archi- tecture. ^^ I have occasionally caught him,^ said Mr. Meyrick, " contemplating with great earnest- ness the exterior of Westminster Abbey. He would frequently sit, of a fine moonlight night, on the benches in St. Jameses Park, gazing on that sublime structure; and I remember he once told me, that he seldom thought of the passage in his own poem, ' The rarliant sun^ the moon's nocturnal lamp/ &c. but he thought of a still finer one in Pope's Homer. 'As when the moon^ refulgent lamp of light! O'er heaven's clear azure spreads her sacred lights When not a hreath disturbs the deep serene^ And not a cloud o'ercasts the solemn scene ; Around her throne the vivid planets roU^ And stars^ unnumber'd^ gild the glowing pole ; O'er the dark trees a yellower verdure shed. And tip with silver every mountain's head; Then shine the vales, the rocks in prospect rise. And floods of glory burst from all the ^tes/ » n LIFE OF AXENSIDE. S13 And this remiDds me of Bloomfield, author of that immortal Georgic, ^^ The Farmer^b Boy.^ He was a great admirer of Akenside. ^^ There are many parts of his great poem,^ said he to me, one day, as we were walking together in his humble garden, near the Shepherd and Shepherdess fields, ^^ that I do not comprehend; but what I do under- stand, I cannot express my admiration of. I never read his poem till after I had written my own; but I think I must have somewhere seen this; passage: — < Some to higher hopes Were destined ; some within a finer mould She wrought^ and tempered, with a purer flame: To these the sire OMNiroTSNT unfolds The world's harmonious volume, there to read The transcript of himsel£' I never read these lines, but I feel myself, for the moment, a poet of a far superior order than that to which I really belong."** In a life of Lord Byron, published a year or two fflnce, I was greatly surprised, and, as a friend of the party, whose memory is aggrieved, not a little offended at the biographer's having given per- manence to what, I should hope, was but a mere momentary opinion of Lord Byron, in respect to Bloomfield. Lord Byron was, doubtless, a captivating poet i S14 LIFE OF AKENSIDE. but his critical qualifications were slight. To be so good a man as Robert Bloomfield were a distinction almost enough for any* That he should have pined away the latter years of his life in hopeless poverty is a disgrace to the times, in which he lived ; and England can no longer reproach Scotland with bit- terness for the fate of Bums. A more innocent, mUd, and unassuming man never adorned the humble sphere in which he moved. His modesty and merit, therefore, ought to have protected his memory from the cold and heartless sneer of worths- less vanity. Lord Byron might have learnt many noble lessons of conduct from the poet, he presumed to despise; since that poet — bom in one of the humblest stations in civilized society — never wrote one word, and probably never entertained one thought, that might not be written in letters of gold. Bloomfield was of mean parentage; and so was Akenside. The lower the rank, the greater the merit. Though many persons afiect to despise pe^ digree, it is very certain, that no one really does so» who h^s any distinction of that sort to boast of. It is characteristic of the duke, the peasant, and the savage. But these are not times in which men can be successfully ridiculed for their birth, profes- sions, callings, or trades. The best of sovereigns LIVE OF AKENSIDSU 215 was a husbandman ^» If ridicule must be cast, let it be thrown on vice, folly, insolence, and pretension; but let it not be cast on men, more intrit^cally to be admired, than many members of the first families in the kingdom. Had Bacon only been a viscount, would he have stood at the head of modem philosophy ? Had Byron only been a baron, he had already fulfilled the purpose for which he lived; and might now sleep— assured of forgetfulness-^in the vault of his ancestors* The subject of Akenside was of the highest class ; it could not, therefore, be made a subject for con- tempt with any one* Can the poetry oi Bloomfield? He borrowed nothing from the Greek, the Latin, the French, or the Italian : though some of his coincidences with the Greek poets are particularly remarkable* Nature only was his book ; hence his PASTORALS are superior to any others in the lan- guage; and his poem, descriptive of a Farmer^s life, is, perhaps, second only to Virgil's Georgics. it Fret not thyself, thou glittering child of pride. That a poor Villager inspires my strain ; With thee let Pageantry and Power abide; The gentle Muses haunt the sylvan reign j » Piastus, King of Poland. 216 LIFE OF AKENSIDE. VHiere through wild groYes at ere the lonely swain Enraptur'd roams, to gaze on Nature's charms. They hate the sensual, and scorn the vain ; The parasite their influence nerer warms ; Nor him, whose sordid soul the love of gold alarms. Akenside had now advanced to the 4dth year of his age. He was in the zenith, as it were, of in- tellectual life ; in the enjoyment of an agreeable, though not an extensive practice ; celebrated as a poet ; blessed with many friends, and one not to be surpassed ; and in connexion with all which, he was blessed beyond the ordinary race of mortals, in the power of commanding true happiness in the enjoy- ment of an elegant mind, a benevolent heart, and views, far from being too ambitious for his peace. In the midst of all this, he was suddenly seized with a putrid sore throat, which terminated in his death on the 23d of June, 1770. He died in Bloomsbury-square, and was buried in St. Jameses church. Mr. Dyson administered to his effects, and became possessor of his books, furniture, MSS., and other property, as Akenside had directed, pre- vious to his death. Though Akenside did not attach himself to any of his brother-poets, he had a long list of friends ; amongst whom, in addition to those already men- tioned , were Sir Francis Drake, Bart., the Earl LIFE OF AKENSIDE. S17 of Huntingdon, Dr. Markham, Lord North, Dr. Reeve, Sir John Hawkins, Mr. Cracherode, Dr. Wharton, and Dr. Birch. ** He was a most unprejudiced and candid esti- mc^ter of contemporary poets,'* says Mr. Hardinge; '^ for which I admired him the more on account of its amiable singularity.''^ The opinion of his judg. ment by friends may be judged of by the following letter from Dr. Birch to Mr. Wray. " You know the eagerness of our curiosity here for what occurs in the republic of letters ; for which reason you will furnish yourself, before your journey, with such new productions as may deserve our perusal, or such an account of them as may be equivalent to the works themselves. Vaillant may probably supply you with some Journaux des Sfavans, imported within this month or six weeks. But we do not exact from you the purchase of the < Memoirs of Lord Bolingbroke,^ which, I judge, from Dr. Aken side's account of the book, not to be worth it ; though, if any friend of yours has hazarded four shillings for it, and is willing to spare it, for a few days, we shall not be disinclined to see what the Apologist can say for a character so exceptionable*.'' * Nichols Illust iv. 534. 218 UFS OF AKBNSIDE. The features of Akenside were expr^rive and manly in a very high degree ; but his complexion was pale, and his deportment solemn. He dressed, too, in a very precise manner, and wore a powdered wig in stiff curl. In respect to disposition, he is said to have been irritable, and to have had little restraint upon his temper before strangers; with whom he was precise and ceremonious, stiff, and occasionally sententious and dictatorial. He had no taste for humour ; had little patience in respect to jests ; and having no wit himself, could ill brook the coarse wit of others ; and was, more- over, of Lord Waldegrave*s opinion, that a true gentleman never jests. Yet he was himself a sa- tirist, and had no mean talent that way, as many of his poems testify. But in the following passage, it is impossible, that he could have alluded to Pope, as some have asserted, and many have believed. '^ Thee, too, facetious Momion / wandering here ; Thee, dreaded censor ! oft I have beheld, Bewilder'd unawares : alas! too long Flush'd with thy comic triumphs, and the spoib Of sly derision !— till on every side. Hurling thy random bolts, offended Truth Assign'd thee here thy station, with the slaves Of Folly, — Thy once formidable name Shall grace her humble records, and be heard. i LIFE OF AKENSIDB. 219 In Bcoflb and mockery^ bandied from the lips Of all the yengefiil brotherhood around; So oft the patient yictims of thy scorn." P. 7, B. III. I 179. Some, I say, have imagined the poet to have, in this passage, alluded to Pope ; and Mrs. Barbauld, after admitting its probability, goes on to observe — ^^ Surely, no man of just moral taste can reflect without regret, that a capital work of one of our best poets, composed in the height of his reputation, and during the perfection of all his powers, should have no other end, than to gratify the spleen of an offended author, and to record the petty warfare of rival wits.'' These observations are, certainly, just : — but the fact is, Akenside could not allude to Pope in this passage; for it is evident that the poet had seen the person whom he satirizes. ^' Thee^ dreaded censor ! oft / have beheld Bevnlderd unawares : alas ! too long Flush'd with thy comic triumphs^ and the spoils Of sly derision." Now, few things are more certain, than that Aken- side never visited London, till his arrival from Leyden ; and that he oflTered his poem to Dodsley almost immediately after is equally certain. It 12S0 LIFE OF AKENSIDE. is very unlikely, that he should have seen Pope during the time, in which his poem was print- ing: but even if he had done so, it must have been with complacency (and then not ^^ often^) ; since Pope had desired Dodsley to make him no mean oflTer, as he was " no every day writer .'* The passage, there can be little doubt, refers to some pompous, facetious, and censorious blockhead, whom Akenside had been in the habit of seeing at Newcastle, at Edinburgh, or at Leyden. The Hon. George Habdinge says in his letter to Mr. Nichols, that Akenside's ** great powers, besides the talent for poetry, were, those of eloquent reasoning, historical knowledge, and philosophical taste, enlivened by the happiest and most brilliant allusions.'^' " He had, too, a most astonishing me- mory, and a most luminous application of it.^ Sib John Hawkins says of his conversation, that it was of the most delightful kind ; learned, instructive, and without any affectation of wit; cheerful and highly entertaining : — and he gives an account of a dinner party, which he enjoyed with him, Mr. Dyson, and another friend, at Putney; when the poet, surrounded by his friends, and en- joying their society in the enlivening sunshine of a summer'^s day, seemed to feel a joy, that he lived ; LIFE OF AKENSIDE. 921 and in consequence poured out his gratulations and thanksgiving to the great Dispenser of all felicity. in words^ which Plato himself might have uttered, on a similar occasion. Yet he was not always agreeable ih conversation. He had a high sense of his own merits ; and when persons of an inferior cast presumed upon their, ignorance, or want of good-breeding, to intrude their observations too unceremoniously, Akenside seldom denied himself the satisfaction of chastising their presumption, by the adoption of a manner, perhaps too severe/ satirical^ and splenetic. But in the society of those mild and gentle spirits, who admired his genius, and respected his virtues, he was kindness itself. His language flowed chastely, gracefully, and eloquently ; and his varied know- ledge, argumentative reasonings, and nice distinc- tions; his fine appreciation of philosophical allusions, and keen relish for the beauties of the creation, would display themselves in pure and copious streams of eloquence, never, perhaps, surpassed by the greatest masters of social life, the world ever knew. His memory was at once discriminative and com- prehensive. He retained all the riches of art, science, and history, legislation, poetry, and philo- sophy ; and these he would draw out and embody 229 LIFE OF AKEKSIDE. to suit the occasioii, required, in a manner, not more wonderful to those, who were partially informed, than delightful to those, who could fellow his track, and continue with him to the end. Yet he is said to have, in general, wanted gaiety of heart in society* He was naturally of a cheerful temper; but his cheerfulness was accompanied by a mellowness of feeling, which sometimes re^ lapsed into melancholy. Not that corroave me- lancholy, however, which unstrings the mind and renders it incapable of life and action ; but of that sweet and delightful nature, which Dter has so beautifully characterized in his *^ Ruins of Rome.*^ ^' There is a mood (I fiing not to the vacant or the young}^ There is a kindly mood of melancholy^ That wings the souI> and points her to the skies. NOTES, &c. 1 NOTES, &c. " Soon after the publication of the Pleasures of Imagination, Akenside,'' says Mr. Dyson, " became conscious that it wanted revision and correction : but so quick was the demand for successive editions, that in any of the intervals to have completed the whole of his corrections was iilipossible. He chose, therefore, to continue reprinting it without any corrections or improvements, until he should be able at once to give them to the public complete ; and with this view he went on, for several years, to review and correct his poem at leisure, till at length he found the task grow so much upon his hands, that, despairing ever being able to execute it to his ' own satisfaction, he abandoned the purpose of cor- recting, and resolved to write the poem over anew, upon a somewhat different and enlarged plan ; and in the execution of this design, he had made a con- siderable progress.*" He printed the first and second books for his own private use ; and transcribed a considerable portion of the third book, in order to 226 NOTES. its being printed in the same manner : ^^ and to these,'' continues Mr. Dyson, "he added the in- troduction to a subsequent book, which in MS. is called the fourth, and which appears to have been composed at the time, when the author intended to comprise the whole in four books ; but as he after- wards determined to distribute the poem into more books, might, perhaps, more properly be called the last book. This," continues Mr. Dyson, " is all that is executed of the new work; which, although it appeared to the editor too valuable, even in its imperfect state, to b^ withholden from the public, yet (he conceives) takes in by much too small a part of the original poem to supply its place, and to supersede the republication of it.'' Besides this, Akenside left behind him a copy of the original poem with marginal alterations, which came into the possession of the late Mr. Pinkerton, who published them in a collection of letters on various subjects, under the name of Robert Heron. What Akenside proposed in the second poetn is thus laid down by himself in the general argument* ^' The Pleasures of the Imagination proceed either from natural objects ; as from a flourishing grove, a clear and murmuring fountain, a calm »^a by moon-- KOTES. 22*t Itgfdi — or, from works of art, such as a noble edifice, a musical tune, a statue, a picture, a poem, " In treating of these pleasures^ we must begin with the former class ; they being original to the other ; and nothing more being necessary, in order to explain them, than a view of our natural inclination towards greatness and beauty, and of those appearances^ in the world around us, to which that inclination is adapted *. *' But the pleasures, which we receive from the elegant arts, from music, sculpture, painting, and poetry, are much more varied and complicated. ^^ In them (besides greatnsss and beauty, or forms proper to the imagination) we find interwoven frequent representations of truth, of virtue and of vice, of cir- cumstances, proper to move us with laughter, or to excite in us pity, fear, and the other passions f. '^ With the above-mentioned causes of pleasure, which are universal in the course of human life, and appertain to our higher faculties, many others do ge- nerally occur, more limited in their operation, or of an inferior origin: such are the novelty of objects, the association of ideas, affections of the bodily senses, in- fluence of education, national habits, and the likeX. * " This is the subject of the first book." t ^ These moral and intellectual objects are described in the second book ; to which the third properly belongs as an episode, though too large to have been included in it." X " To illustrate these, and from the whole to determine the character of a perfect taste, is the argument of the fourth book." ^2 n S28 NOTES. " Hitherto the Pleasures of the Imagination belong to the human species in general. But there are certain particular men, whose imagination t^ endowed with powers y and susceptible of pleasures, which the genC" rality of mankind never participate. These are the MSN of GENIUS^ destined by nature, to excel in one or other of the arts, already mentioned. '' It is proposed, therefore, in the last place, to de- lineate that genius, which, in some degree^ appears common to them all ; yet with a more particular con- sideration of poetry; inasmuch as poetry is the most extensive of those arts, the most philosophical, and the most useful" That Pope injured the Dunciad, by extending it from three books to four, is universally admitted ; and that Akenside's second poem is inferior to the first, is, I believe, as universally conceded. It is dangerous for an author to be too diiScult to please, and too diffident of himself. Founded on the papers of Addison in the Spectator, bearing the same title; and many of its passages being associated with the works of Shaftesbury and Hutcheson, there may be some question as to whether Akenside can be strictly styled an original writer; yet, I think, that praise cannot justly be denied to him ; since in his poem, as an elegant critic has observed with great propriety, he has united the grace of Virgil, the colouring of Milton, and the incidental expression of Shake- speare^ to paint the finest features of the human mind^ and the most lovely forms of true morality and religion. His periods are, however, frequently too long \ many of his images are too splendid to be clearly observed ; there is, occasionally, a redundancy of words; and Johnson criticises with his accus- tomed judgment, when he say&, that the reader wanders through the gay diffusion, sometimes amazed, and sometimes delighted ; that the sense is carried on through a long intertexture of compli- cated clauses; and that his images are displayed with such luxuriance of expression, that they are lost under a superfluity of dress. The second poem has more solidity than the first; but less power. It is more correct and severe; but less brilliant, less touching, less enchanting ; and the imagination is seldom so agreeably carried t< Beyond the visible diurnal sphere." " Had Akenside completed his plan,'' says Df . Aikin, ^^'his poem would have lost as much in poetry as it would have gained in philosophy.** ** If his genius," says Mrs. Barbauld, " is to be estimated from this poem, it will be found to be 230 NOTES. lofty and elegant, chaste, correct, and classical; not marked with strong traits of originality, not ardent, nor exuberant. His enthusiasm was rather of that kind, which is kindled by reading, and imbibing the spirit of authors, than by contemplating at first hand the works of nature. As a versifier, Akenside is allowed to stand amongst those, who have given the most finished models of blank verse. His periods are long, but harmonious; the cadences full of grace ; and the measure is supported with uniform dignity. His Muse possessed the mien erect, and high commanding gait. We shall scarcely find a low or trivial expression introduced, a careless and unfinished line permitted to stand. His stateliness, however, is somewhat allied to stifibess. His verse is sometimes feeble, through too rich a redundancy of oiiiament ; and sometimes laboured into a degree of obscurity, from too anxious a desire of avoiding natural and simple expressions.** Such is the appreciation of Mrs. Barbauld ; and, as a kindred specimen of criticism, we may append the opinion of a French critic. " Le poeme des Plaisirs de rimagination, qui a ete acciteiUi avec enihousiasme dans son origine, est encore regarde comine un des pltis beanx monuments de la poesie Angiaise ; il est cependant mains lu NOTES. 231 qu^il fCest admire. H est ecrit en vers blancSy comme le poeme de MiUon; et Akenside a peutStre mieux connu que MiUon m&me Vharmonte propre a ce genre de poisie. Le style est dlgne du styet; le ton en est Sieve f la cauleur MUante^ et la diction tris-figuree; mais Us idees trop metaphysiques qui y dominentj Vemphi trop Jriquent des termes abstraitSy et rdbus des metaphores repandent sur tout I'ouvragei une certaine obscurite que fatigue Fesprit^ Iq the first instance, the poem, as before observed, is founded on Addison^s celebrated papers in the Spectator, illustrative of the same subject ; and cer- tain passages in Lord Shaftesbury's Characteristics, and Hutcheson^s Inquiry into the Original of our Ideas of Beauty and Virtue. Some thoughts are, also, acknowledged to have been taken from Plato and Aristotle; one from Longinus; and several from the De Serum Natura of Lucretius. ^2 NOTES. BOOK THE FIRST. '* Attend, ye powers Of musicai delight !" Whether Akenside ever attached himself to any musical instrument does not appear. But that he was passionately devoted to music, as a hearer, there can be little doubt. The love of sweet sounds is almost native to the poetical character. But we have a still better evidence to offer ; and that is a note, appended to the original edition of his great poem, which has, — wherefore I am at a loss to con- jecture, — been omitted in most of the subsequent editions. ^' The word musical is here taken in its original and most extensive import; comprehending as well the pleasures, we receive from the beauty or magnificence of natural objects^ as those Mchich arise from poetry, painting, music, or any other of the elegant and ima- ginative arts. In which sense, it has already been used in our language, by ^vriters of unquestionable autho- rity." From this note it appears, that Akenside attached the idea of music to every thing, that was agreeable to him, whether in Nature or in Art. NOTES. S38 ^' But the love Of Nature and the Muses bid explore^ Through secret paths^ erewhile untrod of man, The fair poetic region^ — to detect Untasted springs^ to drink inspiring draughts, And shade my temples with unfading flowers^ Cull'd from the laureate vale's profound recess^ Where never poet gain'd a wreath before." /. 48. Partly from an exquisite passage in Lucretius :— > ** Nunc age> quod super est^ cognosce^ et darius audi : Nee me animi fallit, quam sit obscura ; sed acri Percussit thyrso kudis spes magna meum cor, £t simul incussit suavem mi in pectus amorem Musarum : quo nunc instinctus, mente vigenti Avia Pieridum peragro loca, nullius ante Trita solo : juvat integros adcedere funteis, Atque haurire ; juvatque novos decerpere flores, Insignemque meo capiti petere inde coronam, Unde prius nulli velarint tempora Muss." De Rerum Natura, Lib* I, v» 99,0, Virgil, too : *' Nee sum animi dubius> verbis ea vincere magnum Quam sit, et angustis hunc addere rebus honorem. 8ed me Pamassi deserta per ardua dulcis Raptat Amor ; juvat ire jugis, qua nulla priorum Castaliam moUi devertitur orbita divo." Georg, IIL 289. ^ 284 NOTES. *' Ere the radiant sun Sprang from the eaat^ or mid the vault of night The moon suspended her serener lamp i Ere mountains^ woods, or streams adorn'd the glohe> Or wisdom taught the sons of men her lore ; Then lived the Ax^MiaHTY One." /. /. 59. This fine passage seems to have been con* ceived from a few lines in a poem, containing an insufferable degree of bombast with some portion, and more imitation^ of Miltonic fire. It is entitled the Last Day; written by J. Bctlkeley, Esq. of Clare Hall, Cambridge, and published in 1720. «^ Ere Titan leam'd to shower his golden streams. Ere clouds adorn'd the air, or stars the void. Nature dropp'd dormant, in the hosom lost Of savage chaos Rude rocks, misshapen hills, and glohes unform'd. Then rose the Almighty," &c. Probably Akenside had read Georgius : — « Unus perfectus Deus est, qui cuncta creavit, Cuncta foveus, atque ipse fovens super omnia in se; Quis capitur mente tantum, qui mente videtur j" &c. &c. Franc. Georg. in Lib* de Hermo de Mund** * Beauties and Sublimities of Nature, vol. iv. p. 163. NOTES. 235 Thus Milton :— *' Before the sun. Before the heavens thou wert; and at the voice Of God, as with a mantle, didst invest The rising world of waters, dark and deep. Won from the dark and formless infinite." Thus Maximus Tyrius: — ^^ God is the Father and Creator of every things that eansts ; before the sun he is ; and before the heavens existed^ to him a being^ In Ovid, we read : — ^' Ante mare et tellus, et, quod legit omnia, coelum, Unus erat toto Naturae vultus," &c. Met. 1. 1, 5. In the Psalms, xl. 2. — " Before the mountaifis were brought forth^ or ever thou hadst formed tfie earth and the worlds ^ even Jrom everlasting to everlasting thxm art GodJ" In the laws of Menu : — " This universe eocisted only in the first divine idea^ yet unexpanded^ as if involved in darkness, and as if it were wholly im- mersed in sleep. Then the self-existing power appeared expanding his idea,^ &c. Petrarch has a very extravagant idea: — " The beauty of Laura existed in the conception of the Divinity, before the creation of the universe.'*' 2S6 NOTES. '' From the first Of days, on them his love divine he fix'd— His admiration ; till in time complete What he admired and loved, his vital smile Unfolded into heing." /. /. 70. There is a singular coincidence of thought be- tween this fine passage, and a beautiful one in a Hindoo hymn to " the Spirit of God," translated by Sir Wm. Jones. There is, also, a similar idea in a fragment of Orpheus, quoted by Proclus ; and ^mother in the Edda of Saemund. *' With vnte intent. The hand of Nature on peculiar minds Imprints a difierent hias ; and to each Decrees its province in the common toil." B, I. V. 82. Thus Lucretius : ** Quam vis doctrina politos Constituat pariter quosdaro, tamen ilia relinquit datura quotusque animi vestigia prima" De Rer, Nat IIL 308. ^' For as old Memnon's image, long renown 'd By fabling Nilus, to the quivering touch Of Tiian's ray, with each repulsive string Consenting, sounded through the warbling air Unbidden strains;— e'en so did Nature's hand. To certain species of external things. Attune the finer organs of the mind." /. I 109. i^oTEs. 237 Akenside appears to have caught this idea from a passage in one of Moliere's comedies : ^^ Made'- . moiselle, ne phis^ ne moins que la status de Mem-- non rendoit un son harmonieu-x lorsqiCelle venoit a etre eclairee des rayons du sdeU ; tout de mime me senS'je anime d'un doux transport a Tappa/rition du soleil de vos beautes,'' Le Malade Imaginaire, a. II. S. 5. There is^ also, a passage, allied to this, in Lope de Vega's heroic poem of " La Hervmsura de Angelica :*" '^ Que coma con la musica se haze, Concorde son," &c. &c. • Porphyry has a beautiful idea. The original is not at hand; but the sense stands thus: — ^' In our sensations, the soul moves, as if embodied Harmony itself should play upon an instrument, and smartly touch the well-tuned strings; but the body is like that harmony, which dwells in the springs them- selves, which have no perception of it.*" * Vid. Beauties, Harmonies, and Sublimities of Nature, vol. iv. p. 161. 238 NOTES. Id the MS. corrected copy the reading stands thus : " As Memnon's marble form, renown'd of M By fabling Nilus^ at the potent touch Of morning utter'd from its inmost frame Unbidden music ; so hath Nature's hand To certain species of external things Attuned the finer organs of the mind. So the glad impulse of congenial powers^ Or of sweet sound, or fair proportioned form. The grace of motion, or the pomp of light. Shoots through Imagination's tender frame; Through every naked nerve ; till all the soul To that harmonious movement pow resigns Her functions. Then the inexpressive strain Diffuseth its enchantment Fancy dreams. Rapt into high discourse with sainted bards ; And, wandering through £lysium, fancy dreams Of mystic fountains, and inspiring groves; Fountains, the haunt of Orpheus ; liappy groves. Where Milton dwells^ The intellectual power Bends from his solemn throne a wondering ear And smiles :— The Passions to divine repose Persuaded yield ; and Love and Joy alone Are waking ; Love and Joy, such as await An angd's meditation." It is, pdrhaps, not too much to say, that this is the finest and most splendid passage in the whole range of didactic poetry. In respect to the' statue, Akenside, in the original edition, had appended the following note : — NOTES. 289 ** The statue of Memnon, so famous in antiquity, stood in the temple of Serapis at Thebes, one of the great cities of old Egypt. It was of a very hard, iron -like substance*; and, according to Ju- venal, held in its hand a lyre, which, being touched by the sun-beams, emitted a distinct and agreeable sound. Tacitus mentions it as one of the principal curiosities, which Germanicus took notice of, in his journey through Egypt ; and Strabo -f affirms, that he, with many others, heard it.'' The first seven lines, as originally written, are thus rendered by Mazza : ** Come rimago di Memnon^ cui nome Etemo die la favolosa Egitto^ Agli urti primi del Titanio raggio Prouta movea Tobbedienti corde^ Che^ tremolando^ lo spontaneo suono Per entro 11 gorgbeggiante aere spandeano, Cos! Natura ancor gli estemi oggetti A' nostri piu sottili organi accorda/' * Philostratus says it was of black marble. In Vit. Apol* yi. c. 4. t It is mentioned^ also, by Pliny {NcU. Hist vii. c. 56,), Pausanias^ and Juvenal : " Dimidis magicee resonant ubi Memnone Chords." 240 NOTES. *' Then the inexpressive strain," &c. B. L /. 124. " When we want to render an object beautiful or magnificent,^ says Blair, ** we borrow images from all the most beautiful or splendid scenes of nature; we thereby, naturally, throw a lustre over our object; we enliven the reader's mind ; and dispose him to go along with us, in the gay and pleasing impressions, which we give him of the subject. This eflTect of figures is happily touched in the following lines of Akenside, and illustrated by a very sublime figure : ' Then the inexpressive strain Diffuses its enchantment/" &c ■" O, attend. Whoe'er thou art," &c /. L 132. This passage stands differently in the MS. : " O ! attend. Whoe'er thou art, whom these delights can touch. Whom Nature's aspect, Nature's simplest garb, Can thus command ; O ! listen to my song. And I will guide thee to her blissful walks. And teach thy solitude her voice to hear. And point her graciotis features to thy^ view." Second Poem, ■« O ! attend. Whoe'er thou art, whom these delights can move. NOTES. ^41 Whose candid bosom this primfeval love Of Nature warms: O! listen to my song» And I will guide thee to her holiest walks^ And teach her solitude thy voice to hear^ And point her awjvl features to thy view." MS. " The powers of Fancy^ her delighted sons To THREE illustrious orders have referr'd^ Three sister Graces, whom the painter's hand^ The poet's tongue, confesses; the sublime, The wonderful, the fair. *9 B. 7. 140. This division is from Addison : the poet, how- ever, in his second poem, reduces the number from three to two, " In TWO illustrious orders comprehend Self-taught From him^ whose rustic toil, the lark Cheers warbling,— to the bard, whose daring thoughts Range the full orb of being, still the form Which fancy worships, or sublime or fair. Her votaries proclaim." B. I. 183. In the MS. corrected copy : •'* To the bard, whose mighty mind Grasps the full orb of being ; still the form Which fancy worships^ or sublime or fair. Their eager tongues proclaim." These alterations it is highly important to note* R 848 NOTES. They are delightful evidences of (he mechanism of a poet^s mind; than which nothing, perhaps, is more agreeable to the imagination in the whole labora- tory of mental exercise. '* Say^ why was man bo eminently raised Amid the vast creation- — " down to . '' Who that from Alpine heights^ his lahouring eye Shoots round the wide horizon to soryey Nihis, 9r Qanges^ rolling his bright wave^ Through mountains^ plains, through empires black with shade^ And continents of sand^ will turn hig gaase To mark the windings of a scanty rill^ That murmiurs at his feet ?" B, I. V. 151—183. These admirable lines are founded on a passage in Longinus* ; which the poet acknowledges and translates f. * De Sub. Sect xxxv. t '' Those god-like geniuses were well assured^ that Nature had not intended man for a low spirited or ignoble being ; but bringing us into life> and in the midst of this wide universe^ as before a multitude assembled at some heroic solemnity, that we might be spectators of all her magnificence, and candidates high in emulation for the prize ofglfxry. She has, therefore, implanted in Q\a opuls an inextinguishable love of every thing great and exalted, of every thing which ai^fiars diyin^ beyond our comprehension. yVbenoe it comes NOTES. 243 '' Who that from Alpine heights, &c.?" B. 1. 1. 177. Dr. Johnson objects to the epithet Alpine, His note is a curious instance of the facility, with which to pass, that e^en the whole world is not an ol^ect, sufficient for the depth and rapidity of human imagination, which often sallies forth beyond the limits of all that surrounds us. Let any man cast his eye through the whole circle of our existence, and consider how especially it abounds in excellent and grand olijectSyhe will soon acknowledge for what enjoy- ments and pursuits we were destined. Thus by the y^y propensity of nature we are led to admire, not little springs or shallow rirulets, however dear and delicious, but the Nile, the Rhine, the Danube, and, much more than all, the ocean V f> * It must be confessed, that this version is greatly inferior to that of Smith : which forms, perhaps, the most sublime passage in the whole extension of translated prose. It has, in fact, almost every quality, by which excellence in the higher departments of language can be recognised. '* Nature never designed Man to be a grovelling and un- generous animal : but brought him into life, and placed him in the world, as in a crowded theatre, not to be an idle spec- tator, but spumed on by an eager thirst of excelling, ardently to contend in the pursuit of glory. For this purpose, she im- planted in his soul an invincible love of grandeur, and 9 constant emulation of whatever seems to approach nearer to divinity than himself. Hence it is, that the whole Ymiverse is not sufficient for the extensive reach and piercing specula* r2 24 1 NOTES. even eminent minds can fall into the errors, they are ambitious of correcting. " The sense of his words is strained," says Johnson, " when he views Ganges from Alpine heights; that is, from mountains like the Alps; and the pedant surely intrudes (but when was blank verse without pedantry?) when he tells us how planets absolve the stated round of time.'' Surely, this is in itself an instance of true pedantry, Akenside, however, seems himself to have wavered, in respect to the propriety of using this finely de^ scriptive epithet ; for in the second poem, he writes " aerial ;** and in his marginal notes " mid-air.*" '^ Now, amazed, she views The empyreal waste, where happy spirits hold. Beyond the concave heaven, their calm abode." /. V. 201. tion of the human understanding. It passes the bounds of the material world, and launches forth at pleasure into end- less space. Let any one take an exact survey of life, which, in its every sense, is conspicuous on account of excellence* grandeur, and beauty; and he will soon discern for what noble ends we were bom. Thus the impulse of nature inclines us to admire, not a little, clear, transparent rivulet, that ad- ministers to our necessities; but the Kile, the Isther, the Rhine, and still more the ocean." The passage, quoted from Leibnitz, in all the editions of Akenside, is incorrect and incomplete. It stands thus in the last Paris edition:— "D'ai/- leurs, comme U ny a nulle raison gui porte d croire quHl y a des ttoiles par touty ne se peut-il point qijCil y ait tm grand espace au dela de la region des itoiles ? Qtie ce soit le del empyree^ ou non, tou- Jours cet espace immense, qui environne tout cette region, pourra itre rempli de bonfieur et de ghire. H pourra itre concH comme Tocecm, oil se rendent Us Jleuves de toutes Us creatures Inen fieureuses, gua^id eUes seront venues a Uur perfection da/ns U systeme des ^toi&i9.^<*-L£iBNiTz dans la Theodicee. Part L Sect. 19. Akenside seems, also, to have remembered two lines in Lucretius: — " Omnis enim per se divdm natura^ necesse est, Immortali sevo samma cum pace fruatur." De Rerum datura, IL 645.. Mr. Murphy, in a poetical epistle to Dr. John- son, after enumerating several examples of ^^ wealthy genius, pining midst its store,**' joins Gray and Ak£Nsid£ after the following manner : (€ E'en Gray, unwilling, strikes his living lyre. And wishes, not content, for Pindar's fire : 246 NOTES. And tliftt tweet bard, who to our fancy brings * The gayest, happiest attitude of things/ His raptured verse can throw^ neglected^ by. And to Lucretius lift a reverend eye." u Fields of radiance^ whose unfading lig^t Has travell'd the profound six thousand years^ Nor yet arrives in sight of mortal things." B, L 204. *' Est igitur natura loci^ spatiumque profundi. Quod neque dara suo percurrere lumina cursu Perpetuo possint sevi labentia traetu ^ Nee j^orsum facere, ut restet minus ire, meando , Usque adeo passim patet ingens copia rebus, Finibus exemptis, in cunctas undique parteis." De Rerum Natura, Lib. I. v, 100 f. ** It was a notion of the great Huygens," says Akenside, " that there may be stars at such a di- stance from our solar system, as that their light shall not have had time to reach us, even froin the creation of the world to this day." Light — which Plato figuratively calls tJie sha» Aofto of (he divmi^-^is about eight minutes and a half coming to our globe from the sun. From a knowledge of this velocity, it is proved that the rays of light, which we receive from Sirius, are six years and four and a half months traversing the space between us. But when we consider the distance of some of the nebulae, it is calculated that the light, we receive from them, cannot be less than NOTES. 247 two millions of years upon its journey ! Those nebulae must, therefore, have existed, at the leastj two millions of years before their light could first reach the hemisphere of the earth; while wcj— ^ presumptuous as W(S are !-^have power to prove an existence of little more than the momentary span of four thousand nine hundred and five years. When the eye traverses the universe, the Sutij and all its accompaniments, sink into comparative insignificance! When we pierce into the depth of space, and find, that the whole of what is called the Galaxy, with all the scattered stars, are to be considered as forming only one vast nebula^ to which our solar system also belongs; — when we consider, that the distance of one of the stars in Lyra is from the eAtih lAott than tvi^enty billions of miles ; and that its diameter cannot be less than three-fourths of the size of the entire solar system, circtimscribed as it is to our vision bjr the last satellite of UrAnus*; — that riot le^s than two * As the satellites of Uranus move in orbits, perpendicu- lar to the plane of the Ecliptic, and in a retrograde direction, contrary to the analogy of all other secondaries, as well as primaries, they appear to justify a supposition, that they in^ dicaie the approach, if not the actual beginning of another province of the Solar Empire; of which they are the heralds and connecting links. Some inconvenience having arisen from the circumstance 248 NOTES. thousand five hundred nebulae have been already traced in the firmament ;~rand that the rapidity of the satellites of Saturn having been numbered^ not in the order of distance, but of discovery; and the names, given to those of Jupiter by the illustrious Galileo^ Sinum Marius, and Baptista Hodiema, having fallen into disuse; I took the liberty, a short time since, of proposing another no- menclature, more in consonance with that, already established for the larger Planets. The use and propriety of this nomen- clature having been conceded by several eminent persons, perhaps the reader will excuse me for endeavouring to acquire for it a still more extended consideration. Sateiiites of Jupiter. First in the order of distance . . . Hebe. Second Astrsa. Third Flora. Fourth Pomona. Sateiiites of Saium, First in the order of distance . . . Cybele. Second Thetis. Third Doris. Fourth Hygeia. Fifth Echo. Sixth Psyche. Seventh Fortuna. Satellites of Urcmtis {HerschelJ, First in the order of distance . . . Urania. Second Calliope. Third CUo. Fourth Melpomena Fifth ThaUa. Sixth Erato. NOTES. 249 • p{ motion, by which stars are upheld in their relative positions, is so great, that the revolu- .tions of two (apparently forming one), in the constellation of Ursa Major, round their centre of gravity, may be traced from month to month; — when we contemplate, I say, the number^ the mag- nitude, the vastness of distance, the velocity and regularity of motion; system beyond system, and nebula beyond nebula ; presenting to the imagina- tion, at every step, new forms of life and new orders of intelligence,— the mind becomes impressed with a sublimity of admiration, so full and so entire, that it is with no surprise we afterwards come to the conclusion, that those, who thus with the works of the Deity ^^ hold converse,^ must, as a natural re- sult, more intimately, though perhaps more silently, than any other men, i< Act upon his plan. And form to his the relish of their souls." The finest and most sublime poetical conception, that has yet entered into the mind of man, appears to be that, which pictures innumerable suns, rising put of chaos; and, in rising, throwing out their planets ; those planets sending out their satellites ; all moving with inconceivable rapidity, orb with- 260 NOTES. in orb, ixHind some general centre ;«—*these suns, planets, and satellites sinking periodically into one general chaos ; and thence again issuing forth, im- pelled by new impulses, to form regenferated worlds; and so issuing, returning, and re-issuing, at stated periods, to all eternity ! This picture is presenfed in the following lines of Ddrwin^ and I know of nothing that can be pronounced to be its equal, much less its superior. " The Love Divine *, with brooding wings unfurl'd. Call from the rude abyss the liying world. * Let there be light /' ezclaim'd the Almighty Lord. Astonish'd Chaos heard the potent word; Through all his reahns the kindling ether runs^ And the mass starts into a million suns : LovE^ the sire of Fate^ Elder than Chaos. Hymn to the Naiads, /. 1. The LovE^ designed in the text, is the one self-existent and infinite Mind ; whom, if thfe geniality of ancient my" thologists have not introduced, or trulf described, in ac- counting for the production of the world and its appearances; yet, to a modem poet, it can be no objection, that he hath ventured to differ from them in this particular: though, ii other respects, he professeth to imitate their manner and conform to their opinions. For, in these great points of na- tural theology, they differ no less remarkably among them^ selves; and are perpetually confounding the philosophic relations of things with the traditionary drcumstances of mythic histoty. — Akenside. NOTES. 251 £!artfa8 tound each sun with quick explosions bunt. And second planets issue from the first; Bend^ as they journey with projectile force. In bright ellipses, {heir reluctant course ; Orbs wheel in orbs, round centres centres roll. And fona, self-balanced, one reyolving whole*." Dr. Olbers, and several oth^r eminent astrono- mers, have given into the idea, that a large planet once existed between the orbits of Mars and Ju- piter ; and that it separated into four parts, form- ing what are now called the Asteroids. Much astronomical learning has been called into action on this subject. It is argued, that Bode's * Who can read the following letter, recently published, from Dr. Beattie to Garrick, without a smile ? It reminds us of " one John Milton," and of " one Matthew Prior" "Aberdeen, March 16, 1772. ^^ I lately received a letter from one, who subscribes him- self E. Darwin, Phytician, in Litchfield; containing some objections to an ailment, advanced in my essay against Mr* Hume's doctrine of extended ideas. His manner seems rather captious; however, I know not how it is, my heart warms to the man, either because his hand-writing bears some resemblance to yours, or because he has the honour to live in the town where you and Johnson were born ; and therefore I will write to him soon, and I hope to satisfy all his doubts, which, indeed, seem to arise from his not per- fectly understanding either my philosophy, or that which he himself defends." 252 NOTES. law, and the law of Nature, are one ; and that they both require the existence of such a planet. If so, why does not this large body exist? If it were wanted in times past, it is wanted in times present; for all the apprehensions of Newton, in regard to the solar system being susceptible of decay, have long since been dissipated by La Grange's discovery — the most splendid in modern times! — that all the irregularities and inequalities, which flow from planetary action, are, in reality, so harmoniously adjusted to the various parts of the vast machine, as to be, in all cases, constant in periodical return : — while the labours of La Place having established the knowledge, that the time of a planet's revolution, as well as its mean distance from the sun, are constant properties, it follows, as a natural result, that all planetary existences are beyond the reach of accident, and, therefore, for ever unassailable by time. Planetary distances are coiticidences ; not princi- ples. If the Asteroids formed, originally, one body, would not all and each of them present striking and permanent analogies? What, however, are the facts? The action of Juno not only differs from that of the rest, but from those of all the other known planets in the solar system. For when at her NOTES. 253 greatest distance from the sun, she is at double the distance she is when at the least; and the part of her orbit, which is bisected by her perihelion, is passed in half the time in which she traverses the one more distant Then, as to the atmospheres of these planets : — -that of Vesta is scarcely observable ; that of JcjNO is more so; that of Pallas is still more extended ; but Ceres ! — ^her atmospheric sub- stance rises to a height even superior to those of the other planets in the system all combined ! Where then is the probability of these bodies having ever formed one ? It is even possible, that Ceres and Juno may constitute ccmnecting liiika between PLANETS and COMETS: — a supposition not to be lightly regarded ; for it is rendered strikingly proba- ble by the circumstance, that the aphelion of Encke^s comet lies at no greater distance from the sun, than the space between the orbit of Jupiter and those of the Asteroids themselves. They all breathe, as it were, in the same hemisphere of the universe. If the existence of a large planet be necessary, Nature, by causing it to separate; its parts to move in different orbits; and each part to present different phenomena, has violated the most constant and most comprehensive, as well as the most effective and preservative of her laws. 254 NOTES. If four planets will ^nswc^ the purpose of the one, supposed to have burst, as, it appears, they very effectively do, what difficulty can, tliere be in supposing^ thai they hwe exi^^dfrom the creation and of^usiment qf the system; as well as Jupiter and Mars and all the other primary atnd secondairy planets f Why, in fact, should we accuse Nature of having done an act, which is not only unmacessaxy, but which is in dedded opposition to all the lawp» by which she can be recognised ? Since the phenomaia of gravitation cannot, la any way, be accounted for, either by matter or motion ; if philosophers guard themselves agaiBSt being shackled by the bonds of system, and from being paralysed by the authority even of illustrious names; if they keep themselves free to observe, with unclouded eyes and unbiassed judgments, the varied phenomena, presented to their view, and fbdingly awake to every light, that may hereafter emanate from the experience of the evcFrteeming laboratory pf the human mind, it is not impossible but that the masterly, — nay, the divine, — discovery than it produces^ year by year;. And all in sight of inattentive man ? Faniiliar with th' effect^ we slight the cause; 356 NOTES. And^ in the constancy of nature's course^ The regular return of genial months^ And renovation of a faded world, 4 See nought to wonder at All we behold is miracle; but, seen So duly, all is miracle in vain." Winter Walk at Noon. " At every solemn pause the crowd recoil> Gazing each other speechless and congeal'd With shivering sighs ; till, eager for th' event. Around the beldame, all erect, they hang. Each trembling heart with grateful terrors quell'd V B. L 266. The original of this is in Addison. A modern poet has a transcendent passage : '* 'Tis pleasant by the cheerful hearth to hear Of tempests and the dangers of the deep. And pause at times, and feel that we are safe: Then listen to the perilous tale again. And, with an eager and suspended soul, Woo terror to delight us" Soutkey, There are few passages, even in Shakspeare, superior to this. * In the MS. notes, there is a direction for the trans- planting this passage to Book III. after verse 278. NOTES. 257 Sir Walter Scott, also, has a finely characteristic passage in his poem of Rokeby. '^ When Christmas logs blaze high and wide, Such wonders speed the festal tide. While CURIOSITY and fear. Pleasure and Pain, sit crouching near; Till childhoods cheek no longer glows. And village-maidens lose the rose. The thrilling interest rises higher. The circle closes nigh and nigher. And shuddering glance is cast behind. As louder moans the wintry wind •." * Cant II. St. 10. The astonishing success of this re- markable man may be traced to causes, to a knowledge of which the following passages from Rochefoucault, and his commentator, form an ample key. " The height ofahility,'* says the former, ^' consists in a thorough knowledge of the real value of things, and the genius of the age, we live in*' '* Most of the authors, immortalized by their contemporaries/' says the latter, "have been indebted to this knowledge; or else to the luck of living in an age, with whose turn their abilities coincided," An author, of this splendid coincidence, seldom has to wait. Fame haunts him wherever he may go. Those, on the contrary, who look forward, with prophetic eyes, and build on the future enlargement of the human mind, must wait the time, for which they labour. 258 NOTES. " Brightest progeny of heaven/' &c. B. I. V, 280. The passage, beginning with this line, and finish- ing with '* Spring's elysian bloom,^ has been thus translated by Warton. Ex POEMATE DE VoLUPTATIBUS FaCULTATIS Imaginatricis. *^ O progenies pulcherrima caeli ! Quo tibi succorum tractu^ calamique labore ; i>i vinos ducam vultus, coelestiaque ora? Unde legam qui^ Diva^ tuis certare colores Purpurei possint, discrimina dedala fuel? Ergo age^ Musa, vago cursu per maxima mundi I spatia ', et quicquid formosi florida tellus^ Quicquid habent maria^ et cftli spirablle lumen^ Delibes ; quicquid nitidum natura recondit Dives opum variarum*, in amabile, Musa^ fideli Confer opus studio. Seu liberioribus alis Vin'^ comite Autumno^ per fortunata volare Hesperidum nemora^ et dias Atlantidos oras, Dum quacnnque Pater foecundo poUice lucum Felicim contingit^ opacis gratia ramis Fit nova> et auricomoftdsirunt viminafoeiuj;: Qu&cunque incessit per ditia rura^ renident Undique maturo subiti livore racemiX; Apricosque recens iufecit purpura colles^ Quales occiduo nubes quie sole coruscaat^, • Virg. Georg. II. 467. f ^n- ▼»• 1*0. X Hor. Carm. ii. v. 10. . § Georg. i. 23S. Sive cnaie TcSi, n^m «*wu4f •- Daphnes dikcts, T^rm^tJt r*T^' Nou — *» wax tbc» ij. Wicii bi^u^ Ammmm to df Atlntk « By these klaiids, whkh ircrc, also, caUea inc Fortunate r says Akeoside in a note to the origmal edition, "the andents are now generany supposed to have meant the Cflfiori^. They were celebrated by the poets for the mildness and fertiHty of the climate; for the gaidens of the daughtets of Hes- perns, the brother of Atlas; and the dragon, which •Moiis.Catli.y.72. In obitum Fredcrid, t. 21. Virg, Georg. ii. 485. t Hymn, ad Pan. ▼. 4. .fin. ii. 781. t Luoet. ▼. 19%. * s2 260 JIOTES. constantly watched their golden fruit, till it was slain by the Tyrian Hercules." « Fair Tempe ! haunt belov'd of sylvan powers. Of nymphs and fauns/' &c. /. V. 299. This passage is much amplified in the second po^m; not much, perhaps, to the poetical advantage. FrcMn this fountain Warton seems to have caught a little of his inspiration, while writing the Pleasures of Melancholy. «' The laughing scaies Of purple spring; where aU the wanton train Of smiles and graces seem to lead the dance In sportive round ; while from their hands they shower Ambrosial blooms and flowers j no longer charm. ] Tehfe! no more I court thy balmy bree2e: i Adieu^ green vales! ye broiderd meads^ adieu!" PlecLsures of Melancholy, %\. We are under great obligations to Akenside : for had he not written on the Pleasures of the Imagina- tion, we had, possibly, never had " the Pleasures of Melancholy,'' " the Pleasures of Memory," or ^' the Pleasures of Hope." " With these better cares Th' indulgent mother^ conscious how inflrm NOT£S. 261 Her oflfspririg tread the paths of good and ill. By this illustrious image, in each kind Still more illustrious/' &c. &c. /. 357. Among the MS. notes, this passage stands thus : '' Now more illustrious, where the ohjept holds Its proper powers most perfect, she hy this Directs the headlong impulse of desire. And sanctifies his choice. The glow of flowers. Which gild the verdant pcuture, the clear track Of streams delicious to the thirsty soul. The hloom of downy fruitage," &c. " Truth and good are one ; That heauty dwells in them, and they in her With like participation •." Book I. LSI ^ The poet gives references, also, to several passages in Shaftesbury. They are these;— " I am ready enough to yield," said I, " that there is no real good heside the enjoyment of heauty." '^ And • " Do you imagine," said Socrates to Aristippus, " that what is good is not beautiful ? Have you not observed, that these appearances always coincide? Virtue, for instance, in the same respect as to which we call good, is ever acknow- ledged to be beautiful also."— X?nop^on. MemorabU, Socrat, Lib. IIL c. 8. SOSt IfOTES. I am ready" replied Theocles^ " to yield, that there is no real enjoyment of beauty^ beside what is good." — Characi. II. 422. " Should not this be still the same case, and hold, equally as to the mind ? Is there nothing there, which tends to disturbance and dissolution ? Is there no na- tural tenour, tone, or order of the passions or affections? No beauty or deformity in this moral kind? Or, allowing that there really is, must it not, of consequence^ in the same manner, imply health or sickliness, prosperity or disaster f Will it not be found in this respect above all, that what is beautiful is harmonious and proportion" able; what is harmonious and proportionable is true ; and that what is at once beautiful and true is, of conse- quence, agreeable and good. Where, then, is this BEAUTY or HARMONY tO be fouud ? HoW is this SYM- MRTRY to be discovered and applied ? Is it any other art than that of philosophy, or the study of inward numbers and proportions, which can exhibit this in life? If no other; who, then, can possibly have a taste of this kind, without being beholden to philosophy? Who can admire the outward beauties, and not recur instantly to the inward, which are the most real and essential, the most natur&lly affecting, and of the highest pleasure, 8S well as profit and advantage." — Vol. iii. 181, 3, 4, 5. For Shaftesbury's opinions, generally, on this subject, see Moral Beauty, II. 409. Beauty of Sentiments, Character of Mind, I. 136, 207; NOTES. 263 III. 803. That Beauty is Truth, 1. 142; III. 180, &c. Beauty of Virtue, I. 315. Scale of Beauty, III. 218. How attractive and enchanting. III. 216, 218. Its extent, II. 211, 212, 213. It is scarcely possible to read the passages, here referred to, without recurring to Gray's poem, De Principiis cogitandi. <( Sapientia dia Hinc roseum accendit lumen, vultuque sereno Humanas aperit mentes, nova gaudia monstrans, Deformesque fugat curas, vanosque timores ; Scilicet et rerum crescit pulcherrima virtus." Will the reader excuse me for introducing in this place a passage from the Harmonies of Nature ? It belongs expressly to the subject. ft Every object, which awakens pleasure in the mind, is beautiful; since it produces the sensation of pleasure. Whatever excites agreeable emotion, therefore, possesses some intrinsic quality of beauty. Hence the term beauty may be applied to every thing, which gives pleasure to the mind ; from a woman to a problem ; from a planet to a tree or a flower. Hence arises the intimate con- nexion between beauty and virtue. " In the spirit of this doctrine, Wibland, the cele- brated German poet, has written a dialogue, conceived in the manner, and executed with much of the sweet- ness and delicacy of Plato. He imagines Socrates to surprise Timoclea, a captivating Athenian virgin, at S64 ]^OT£S. her toilette ; dressed for a solemn festival in honour of Diana ; attired in all the beauty of Nature and all the luxuriance of art. His surprising her in this manner gives rise to a dialogue^ in which the subject of real and apparent beauty is philosophically discussed. The arguments are summed up by Tistoclea^ at the end of the discourse^ in which she declares herself a convert to that fine moral doctrine^ which teaches^ that nothing is beautiful, which is not good; and nothing good^ but what is, at the same time, intrinsically beautiful," " Unless the imagination be excited^ as Mr. Alison observes ^^ the emotions of beauty and sublimity are unfelt. Hence, whatever increases the powers of that faculty^ increases those emotions in like proportion; and no objects or qualities being felt^ either as beautiful or sublime^ but such as are productive of some simple emotion^ no composition of objects^ or qualities^ produce emotions of taste^ in which that unity is not preserved." €i Not let the gleam Of youthful hope/' &c. B. I. 387. Akenside, — in his admiration of the Deity, — was an ardent and decided enemy to every species of superstition. In the MS. notes, attached to his own copy, stands the following alteration. " Nor be the hopes Which flatter youthful bosoms here appall'd^ * Ch. 1. sect. 2, S ; ch. ii. sect. 2, 3. NOTES. 265 Nor let false terror urge you to renounce This awful theme of undeceitful good^ And truth eternal. Though th' ahhorred threats Of sacred superstition^ in the quest Of that kind pair^ constrain her kneeling slave^ To quench^ and set at nought the lamp of God Within his frame :— through deserts^ thorns, and mire^ Though forth she led him credulous and dark^ And awed with dubious motion ; though at length Benighted^ terrified, afflicted, lost. She leaves him to converse with cells, and graves. And shapes of death ; to listen all alone. And by the screaming owl's accursed song. To watch the dreadful workings of his heart; Or talk with spectres on eternal woe. Yet be not you dismay'd. A gentler star Your lovely search enlightens." This version is very different from those of the first and second poems ; and much superior to both. The passage in the first poem (Book 1. 387) is sup- posed to have been levelled at Dr. Young : and a similar application has been made of a stanza in his Preface to the Odes. " Nor where the boding raven chaunts. Nor near the owl's unhallow'd haunts. Will she her cares employ; But flies from ruins and from tombs. From Superstition's horrid glooms. To day-light and to joy." 266 NOTES. And wake the strong divinity of soul. That conquers chance and fate/' &c. I. 431. In the MS. corrected poem, we are directed to read: '^ Which conquers change or fate; or whether tund For triumph, on the sumniit to proclaim Her toils ; around her brow to twine the wreath Of ever-lasting praise ; through future worlds To follow her interminated way*' In the second poem : ''Which conquers chance or fate; or on the height The goal assign d her, haply to proclaim Her triumph; on her hrotv to place the crown Of uncorrupted praise." c< As the pearl Shines in the concave of its azure hed. And painted shells indent their speckled wreath." '' Concharumque genus parili ratione videmus Pingere teUuris gremium." Lucretius, De Rer, Nai. IL 374. Mrs. Barbauld, in her essay on the poem of Akenside, makes an assertion, very extraordinary for a lady of her talents and observation. " In the Pleasures of Imagination only three similes are to be found ; viz. that of Memnon's harp ; that of the parhelion ; and that of the needles." There are, I i NOTES. 867 on the contrary, two in the first book, more than she alludes to ; eight in the second ; and six in the third. There are also ten more in the second poem*. * B. 1. 1. 454. As the pearl, &c 1. 582. As when the Persian, &c. B. II. 1. 15. As the hlunt arrow, &c. 1. 141. Like a storm, &c. 1. 350. As flame ascends, &c. 1. 412. Flowed like the dewy lustre, &c. 1. 447. As watery murmurs, &c. I. 524. As when a wolf, &c L 604. As lightning fires, &c. 1. 663. Flew like the pictures, &c. B. III. 1. 93. As the hloom of spring, &c. 1. 355. Like spring's unfolded hlossoms, &c. 1. 427. As when a cloud, &c. 1. 470. Like a young conqueror, &c. I. 517. So fahles tell, &c. 1. 527. Free as the vital hreeze, &c. In the second poem, B. 1. 1. 248. Like clustered isles, &c. 1. 424. Like a gem, &c. 1. 678. As travellers hy night, &c. B. II. I. 40. Like a welcome rill, &c. I. 65. As in a polished mirror, &c. 1. 447. Like fond pilgrims, &c. 1. 578. As the young lion, &c. B. III. L 441. Like a fair hand-maid, &c. B. IV. 1. 10. Like waste of sands, &c. 1. 130. As earth itself, &c. S68 NOTES. ^* But more lovely still Is nature's chann> where to the full consent Of complicated members^ to the bloom Of colour^ and the vital change of growth. Life's holy flame and piercing sense are given. And active motion speak the tempered souL" B. 1. 1. 464. Ti5y ovrwv rolwv ra fuv, &c. Max. Tykius, Dissert* xvii. ^' Ma piu natura ci diletta, e place Se al bel contrasto de' tessuti membri, E al lum^giar d' armonici colori, £ alio sviluppo de' crescent! germi Sacra fiamma di vita, un agil senso Vien che s'aggiunga, ed un non pigro moto Faccia di ben temprata anima fede." Mazza, Lib, L 596. ^' Mind, Mind, alone, (bear witness, earth and heaven !) The living fountains in tY^e/f contains. Of beauteous and sublime." B. L V. 481. See Characteristics, i. 130 ; iii. 205 ; i. 137 ; ii. 440; iii. 168, ^5; ii. 83. Ed. 1737, Jkenside. The alteration in the second poem is very im- portant. " He, God most high (bear witness, earth and heaven !) The living fountains in himself contsAns, »> Of beauteous and sublime.' B^ /. V. 363. i NOTES. 269 The succeeding passage, beginning with *' Thue, O Father ! this extent Of matter," &c. ; Dr. Warton compares with a fine one in Pope's Essay on Man : — ^' All are but parts of one stupendous whole. Whose body Nature is, and God the soul ; That, changed through all, and yet in all the same ; Great in the earth, as in th' ethereal frame; Warms in the sun, refreshes in the breeze, Glows in the stars, and blossoms in the trees ; Lives through all life, extends through all extent, Spreads undivided, operates unspent ; Breathes in our soul, informs our mortal part. As full, as perfect, in a hair, as heart; As full, as perfect, in vile man, that mourns. As the rapt seraph, that adores and bums. To him no high, no low, no great, no small ; He fills, he bounds, connects, and equals all." " Does this capacious scene^ With half that kindling majesty, dilate Thy strong conception, as when Brutus rose. Refulgent from the stroke of C^sak's fate. Amid the crowd of patriots, and his arm Aloft extending, like etemalJove, When guilt brings down the thunder, caU'd aloud On Tully's name, and shook his crimson steel. And bad the father of his country hail !" /. 490. Dugald Stewart thinks*, that the amplifica- * Philosophy of the active and moral Powers of Man, vol. i. p. 283. 270 NOTES. tion of this scene weakens the e£Pect of the simple narrative of Cicero. Casare interfecto — statim cruentum alti extoUens M. Brutus pugionem^ Cice- ronem nominatim excla%navit^ atque ei recuperatam libertatem est gratidatus. — PhiL II. 12. Akenside, — with other more exalted sentiments, — seems to have adopted, from the Greek and Roman theorists, the very questionable doctrine, that the act of assassinating a tyrant may be associated — a With generous counsels and heroic deeds.' ^^ Brutus perished urUimely^ says the truly learned and accomplished Mr. Harris in his Essay con- cerning Happiness, " and Ccesar did no more. It was thus, as I remember, not long since, you were expressing yourself, and yet suppose their fortunes to have been exactly paraUely which would you have preferred? Would you have been Ccesar or Brutus? ' Brutus/ replied I, * beyond all controversy.' He asked me, * why ; where was the difference, when their fortunes, as we now supposed them, were considered the sameT * There seems,' said I, * ab- stract from their fortunes^ something, I know not what, intrinsically preferable in the life and cha- racter of Brutus.' * If that,' said he, ' be true, then must we derive it, not from the su4:cess of his en- NOTES. 271 deavours; but from their ^rii^ and rectitude. He had the comfort to be conscious^ that his cause was a just one. It was impossible that the other should have any such feeling.' * I believe,' said I, * that you have explained it */ ^ In Mr. Harris' Philosophical Arrangements is another passage in the same spirit. '^ The domina-- tion of Caesar acted upon the imagination of Brutus : that imagination acted upon his love for the re- public: that love for the republic acted upon his corporal organs. His hand, in consequence, plunged a dagger into Caesar ; and, for a time, the republic, which he loved, was restored -f-.*" For a time^ the republic^ which he hved^ was restored. Harmodius and Aristogiton assassinated Hip- parchus ; — Hippias escaped. Harmodius was seized by the guards and massacred. Aristogiton was put to the torture ; and, in revenge to the guards, for having murdered Harmodius, he accused some of them of being privy to his plot. They were inno- cent; but being the intimate friends of Hippias, the tyrant ordered them to immediate execution. Who has not heard of Harmodius and Aristo- ♦ Works, vol. ii. p. 106, ito. ed. 1801. t Works, vol. ii. p. 152. 272 NOTES. giton? Who has not breathed with quickness, when young, at the bare mention of their names ? Were not their statues erected in the market-place at Athens ? and was not that an honour never con- ferred in that city before P Is there not a ballad still preserved, commemorative of the deed? and do not all boys, in classical schools, get it by heart? Yet who were Harmodius and Aristogiton ? and what was their deed? They were friends; and more than companions of Leona, the courtezan. They assassinated a public enemy ; but they assassi- nated him — ^not in revenge for an injury to their country —but in the spirit of revenge for a private insult, oflTered to one of themselves. Brutus plunged a dagger into Ccesar; and^Jbr a time^ the republic was restored. Not for one mo- ment! And to that assassination may be attri- buted a long series of disasters, terminating in an usurpation^ which closed with the destruction of the republic in the first instance, and that of the empire in the second. The assassination was " not only a crime, but a fault* r Antony predicted the result. * The reader will, doubtless, remember the Duke of Otranto's heartless criticism on the murder of the Duke d'Enghein. NOTES. 21S ^' A curse shall light upon the line of men : Domestic furj^ and fierce ciyil strife^ Shall cumber all the parts of Italy : Blood and destruction shall be so in use, And dreadful objects so familiar^ That mothers shall but smile, when they behold Their infants quarter'd by the hands of war." The conspirators made ample provision for the success of their plot against Caesar ; but little or none for restoring the republic to its primitive principles. Their conduct, in fact, was the personification of imbecility. The motives of Brutus have been strangely overlooked. Csesar had seduced Cato^s sister; kept her in obloquy publicly as his mistress; and bought her a jewel at a price equivalent to fifty thousand pounds * ! Who should this mistress be? The mother of Bruttis. If Brutus could live, as he did, for years in friendship under the same roof with the man, who had seduced his mother, he could never have stabbed the seducer for a public benefit. Public motives can only be entertained by good men. Dante seems to have regarded Brutus with par- ticular indignation. He even represents him, with * Suetonius. In yit. Cas. c. 50. T 874 NOTES. his friend Cassius, as standing in the inferior r^ons on each side of Judas Iscariot. c'QueU' anima lassu eh' ha maggicw pena^ Disse 1 maestro, h Giupa Scabiotto^ Che '1 capo ha dentro^ e fuor le gambe mena. De gli altri duo, ch' haimo 1 capo di sotto^ Quel che pende dal nero cefFo^ h Bbuto : Vedi, come 8i storce/e non fa motto: £ r altro e Cassio, che par si membruto." Beir Inferno, Cant 34. 60. Brawlers for liberty ! What are they but the greatest enemies, public liberty has? They are double enemies ; for they render her name not only suspected but dreaded. '' License they mean> when they cry Liberty!' Milton, by this one sentence, expUcitly shows, how well he had watdied the spirit of his tinaes, and penetrated the intricacy of human affairs. AU men love liberty for themselves ; but few are they, who love liberty for others, as well as for them- selves : '^ Those, who love her, must first be wise and good." The love of true liberty*, in fact, is always a cha- racteristic in the formation of a noble mind. • True Liberty is the freedom of nature, chastised and regulated by just laws, operating, with ductility and ease, through every portion of the body politic. NOTES. 276 Every statesman should read Plato*8^r^ Alcibi' odes; since it was written with the de^gn of incul- cating the truth, that neither shipping, nor harbours, nor fortifications, are of any avail to the happiness of a state ; nor extent of empire, nor multiplicity of population ; — if Virtue does notjbrm the basis of manners and policy. In reference to a tyranny, it is almost a truism to remark, that the best method of getting rid of it, — whether that tyranny is wielded by a despot, an oligarchy, or a democracy, — is for the more re- spectable portion of the people to be perpetually on the watch, firm in resolve, quick in action, united in object, and faithful to themselves. But to assas* sinate a tyrant is committing a bad action with the sure result of substituting one tyrant, or one species of tyranny, for another; probably far worse than the one which has been exercised and conquered. *' As the candid blush Of him, who strives with Fortune to be just/' &c. L V. 505. These, and several succeeding, as well as pre- ceding, lines, are left out in the second poem ; and yet, perhaps, nothing is superior in didactic poetry. t2 276 NOT£S« The poet would, it is probable, not have neglected to preserve them, had he been allowed to finish his undertaking ; though the part of the second poem, where they ought to have appeared, seems to be finished ; — amplified but not improved. ^ The graceful tear^ that flows from other's woes.** /. tr. 506. Darwin has a transcendent passage : '^ Nor gilded pearly that crested Fortune wears^ Nor gem, that twinkling hangs in beauty's ears; Not the bright stars, that night's blue arch adom^ Nor radiant sun^ that gilds the rising mom. Shine with such lustre, as the tear, that flows Down Virtues manly cheeks for others woes^ -'* Trace the forms Of atoms, moving with incessant diange Their elemental round/ &c. /. 615. ''At, quoniam supra docui, nihil posse creari De nihilo, neque, quod genitum est, ad nihil revocari ; Esse immortal! primordia corpore debent, Dissolvi quo qusque supremo tempore possint, Materies ut subpeditet rebus reparandis. Sunt igitur solids primordia simplicitate. Nee ratione queunt alia, servata per svom. Ex infinito jam tempore res reparare." De Rerum Naiura, lib, /. v. 544. NOTES. 2T7 -'* While among The herd of servile minds^ her strenuous form, Indignant^ flashes on the patriot's eye^ And through the rolls of memory appeal To andent honour." B, 7. V, 658. Had Akensidie ever been, as he once hoped, a member of the House of Commons^ he would, doubt- less, have occasionally startled the members by sudden appeals to " ancient honour." In the MS. notes we read : •" Different far She starts, indignant, on the patriot's eye Among the servile herd; her nervous hand Points as she turns the record, and appeals To ancient honour *." * If he would try effectually to acquire the real science or taste of life, he would discover^ that a right mind, or ge- nerous affection, had more heauty and charm than all other symmetries in the world j and, that a grain of honesty and native worth was of more value than all the adventitious ornaments, estates^ or preferments ; for the sake of which some of the hetter sort so often turn knaves : forsaking their principles and quitting their honour and freedom, for a mean^ timorous, shifting, state of gaudy servitude.— CAo* racteristics, vol. iiL )68. 278 NOTES. BOOK THE SECOND. <' When shall the laurel and the vocal strain Resume their honours ? When shall we hehold The tuneful tongue^ the Promethean hand Aspire to ancient praise ?" B. 11. 1 <' £ quando il lauro^ e le vocali corde n prisco onor ripiglieranno ? E quando L'armonica vedrem' aurea favella, E la Promotea man dietro I'antica Lode agognar ?" Mazza. '^ Oft as the gloomy kobth^ with iron-swarms^ Tempestuous pouring from her frozen caves Blasted the Italian shore ; and swept the works Of Liberty and Wisdom, down the gulf Of all devouring night." //. 9. This is an error of long date : but the fact is, the Goths were not such barbarians to Italy, as were the Italians themselves : — all liberty and wis- dom had long been lost, or they had never in- yaded the country ; and even Rome itself scarcely suffered more from the sack of the Vandals (not so i NOTES. 279 much from that of the Goths), than from the im« penal troops in the time of Charles V. •^' How doubly fair. When first with fresh-bom vigour he inhales Tlie balmy breeze, and feels the blessed sun Warm at his bosom from the springs of life Chasing oppressive damps and languid pain." B, IL V. 93. These lines remind us of a beautiful stanza in Gray's poem on the Pleasures arising from Vicissi- tude. '^ See the wretch, that long has tost On the thorny bed of pain. At length repair his vigour lost. And breathe and walk again ;" &c. &c. Gray told Mr. Mathias, that M. Gresset's "Epitre d me 8(Bury sur ma Convalescence^^ gave him the first idea of this ode. -"Nor ever, yet. The melting rainbow's vernal tinctured hues," &c. JB. //. 103. Akenside seems to have remembered a passage in Rapin : — " Tunc et celesti quae didtur Iris ab arcu, Splendebit, flores variata coloribus iUis, 280 VOTES. QuoB pluvia accipiunt adveno nubila vole, Iridis at Bpedes yariaa^ vuioaque colores DistiDguet^ variis pro tempestatibus annus." Hort. I. '' Whether in wonders of the rolling deep. Or the rich fruits of all-sustaining earthy Or fine adjiuted springs of lifb and sense, Ye scan the coonsels of their author^s hand." B. IL 132. LoGKE seems to have thought it possible, that a child might think in lUero ; and Darwin goes no small way to confirm the conjecture *. Descartes went farther; for he carried his imaginative powers so far as to suppose, that the soul, when it enters the body, is inform.ed with the whole series of metaphysical notions ; that it pos- sesses all abstract ideas ; that it even knows God ; and has the power of comprehending infinite space ! All this Descartes seems to have thought not only possible, but probable; but he thought, at the s^me time, that these sublime truths the soul forgets at the moment, in which it beholds — as Ma- dame de Stael would, probably, say on such an occasion — " Aurore dHune vie nouveUe/* » Let us hazard a conjecture. * Temple of Nature^ Cant. III. 1. 144. in notis. NOTES. 26 1 The pistils of some flowers produce seeds, with- out receiving any pollen from the stamens; and birds produce eggs without any communication cum maritis. But those seeds^ if planted, will never vegetate; nor wiU those eggs produce the germ of a living chicken. Most fishes, and some reptiles, have iy> communication cum maritis what* ever. They shed, and mariti fertilize afterwards. From these phenomena it would appear, that the materials, forming the body of the future plant, bird, fish, and reptile, are secreted injeminis; and the living spirit in masculis. How the bodily machine acquires existence in the one, and how the principle of life is secreted in the other, are both secrets alike. May not this be applied to the human subject? The pater having communicated the living prin- ciple to the inactive and unconscious mass (existent in matrice), the latter becomes a mansion for the former to reside in. Through the windows of this mansion (viz. the senses), the living principle receives impressions from the external universe, which engender what are called ideas; and the capacity of receiving those ideas is what may be called mind. ^2 NOTES. '^ Passion's fierce illapse Rouses the mind's whole fahric j with supplies Of daily impulse keeps the elastic powers Intensely pois'd^ and polishes anew^ By that collision, all the fine machine;" &c. B, IL V, 158. This passage is thus rendered by the Italian translator, who illustrates the subject with a passage from Pope*. *^ Questa col fiero Urto per tutta I'anima s'intema ; £ col soccorso de' frequenti impulsi Agevola^ distende, e ognor mantiene L' elastiche potenze equilihrate ; £ in questa poi collision^ piu tersa Tutta la fina macchina diviene." Libro Secondo, 199. In respect to the foundation of the mysterious kind of pleasuref, which is sometimes experienced in the exercise of the passions, generally regarded as • ^' But strength of mind is exercise ; not rest. The rising tempest puts in act the soul 3 Parts it may ravage, hut preserves the whole." Pope. Soff. sopra rUomo, Ep> ii. v, 104. t B. IL 157, ^93. J NOTES. 283 painful, Akenside dismisses the solution of Lucbe- Tins *, and adopts that of Du Bos -I* ; viz. that it arises Jram the general delight 9 winch tlie mind tastes in its own activity: and its abhorrence of a state of indolence^ joined with tJie self-applattsej which always attefids the emotion^ when natural andJtASt. This solution, however, is not more strictly accordant with true science, than that of Lucretius : it is even less so : for it is, assuredly, more natural to ascribe the sensation, alluded to, to a feeling of conscious safety, than to one of conscious activity. It seems, however, as if it would be more con- * *^ Suave, mari magno torbantibus a?quora ventis^ E terra magnum alterius spectare laborem : Non, quia vexari quemquam eatjocunda voluptas, Sed, quibus ipse malis careas, quia cernere suave est." LucRET. De Rer, Natnr. ii. 1. Seattle has an admirable passage: '' And oft the craggy difFhe loved to climb, When all in mist the world below was lost. What dreadful pleasureX ! There to stand sublime. Like ship-wreck*d mariner on desert coast" Minstrel, i. st 21. f Reflexions critiques sur la Poesie et sur la Peinture. How far superior to thejocunda voluptas of Lucretius ! 284 NOTES. sonant with truth, were we to reduce its solution to that one simple canon, which teaches that misfortune is attractive, and thence elicits sympathy much after the manner, that magnets afiine and planets gravitate. '^ Twas in the windings of an ancient wood/' &c. B, IL 187. See Leibnitz, Essais de Theodicee, sur la Bonte de Dieu, la Libert 6 de THomme, et TOrigine du Mai, i. 21. 209. Moral, Physique, Metaphysique, 118, 119,209,241. The purport of Akenside's allegory is to solve the difficulty, in respect to the origin of evil : it must, however, be confessed, that there is an obscurity throughout ; — yet if he fail, — we &te to consider, that he fails in a point, in which it was impossible to succeed. The subject is invincible ! ^' Is thy short span Capacious of this universal frame ? Thy wisdom all-sufficient* ? Thou — alas ! Dost thou aspire to Judge between the Lord Of Nature and his works?" B, IL L 245. The last two lines remind us of two well-known verses in the book of Job. * f\ Commanding. — MS< N0TE9. 285 *' 'Twas a horrid pUe Of hillsj with many a shaggy forest mix'd. With many a sable diff and glittering stream Aloft recumbent." B. IT. I 274. In the Ms. notations we are desired to read — " 'Twas a horrid pfle Of cliffs, with many a shaggy forest mix'd^ With many a sable heathj and glittering stream Aloft incvmbefit" " Remurmuring rush'd the congregated floods With hoarser inundation." B. II. 282, 3. '^ More ponderous rush'd the congregated floods. And louder stiU resounded." MS. Notation. In respect to this and to other MS. corrections, Mr. Pinkerton says: — " •As I know that Aken8ide''s work on the Pleasures of Imagination is deservedly one of your most favourite poems, I send you in- closed what, I have no doubt, you will set a due value upon : no less than a copy of all the correc- tions he made with his own hand on that poem. They were inserted in the margin of his printed copy, which afterwards passed into the hands of a * Heron's Letters. 886 ]»oTEs. gentleman, from a friend of whom, and of my own, a very ingenious young Templar, I received them. At what time they were written I cannot pretend to say ; much less to reveal the author'^s reasons for not giving an edition according to them. You will observe, that a few of them have been adopted by the author in his proposed alteration of the poem ; as appears from the two books, and part of' the third, of that alteration, published by Mr. Dyson in his edition of Akenside's poems, 177^, 4to, but far the greater part is unpubliAed*; and that the most valuable, as being evidently written ere the author had taken up the strange idea, that poetry was only perfect oratory. So that I will venture to say, that an edition of the Plea- sures of Imagination, adopting most of these cor- rections, would be the most perfect, ever yet knownf .'' -" With full accord Answering the mighty models he had chosen. The best and fairest of unnumbered worlds, That lay from everlasting in the store Of his divine conceptions." B. IL I 333. * And these only it has been thought proper to insert, t An edition^ combining these and other advantages, will^ probably^ be published at no very distant period. notes; 287 " This opinion,'' says Akenside, ** is so old, that Timseus Locrus calls the Supreme Being da/tn^vyhg rSf BaXr/ovog^ the artificer qfihat which is best ; and represents him as resolving in the beginning to pro^ duce the most excellent work, and as copying the world most exactly from his own intelligible and essential idea ; so that it yet remains^ as it was at firsi^ perfect in beauty^ and witt never stand in need of any correction or improvement. See the vision at the end of the Theodicie of Leibnitz.'^ Surely this is begging the question in a very strange and contracted manner. Who can suppose this world, in which evil must be acknowledged to exist *, to be the lest that the Deity was capable of Jbrmingf This is a subject beyond our compre- hension ; but men differ greatly upon it. Some years since I travelled, for several days, with a Venetian gentleman, who had lost all his patrimony during the occupation of Venice by the French. We got out of the coach near the village of Llandisilio, and passing through the church- * Who can refiise to believe that Evil exists, while the bodies, even of good men, are liable to the pangs of ^^ Intestine stone and ulcer, colic-pangs. Demoniac frenzy, moping melancholy. And moon-struck madness, pining atrophy. Marasmus, and wide- wasting pestilence?" 288 NOTES. yard, we sat down upon one of the gravestones; and the conversation having taken a serious turn— ^ ^^ This is indeed a beautiful valley !^ said he, ^^ and the country we have passed through is, I think, almost equal to any thing I have seen in the Venetian states. But what avails all this beauty ? Where man places his foot, the box of Pan- dora bursts open. Indeed, to me it appears as if the Being, who created the globe, left it before he had brought his plan to maturity, and passed on to call forth new creations, more conformable to the impresses, existing in his own mind. We are the dregs of the universe !^ This was the momentary error of despondency : but none are more ignorantly presumptuous than those, who would set limits to the capabilities of " the unfathomable deep^ Not only Binary and Tebnary systems have been traced in the heavens, but Quadruple, Quin- tuple, and Multiple ones; all connected in systems of reciprocal attraction. Even their periods of revolution have, in some instances, been detected. One, for instance, in the Serpent, occupying 376 years ; a second in the Virgin, 708 years ; a third in Leo, 1200 years; and a fourth in Bootes occu- pying 1681 years ! T NOTES. S89 To doubt that these, and all other Suks, Comets, Planets and Satellites, are peopled with intel- ligent Beings, is to have a very limited conception of the uses, extension, splendour, and magnificence of the universe, indeed ; as well as of the sublimity of operation, characteristic of th^ Sovereign POWEE. The Electric Fluid is a substance ; every par- ticle of Light is a substance ; the Essence of At- traction is a substance. All these fluids are passing and repassing, in myriads of directions, in every fractional moment of time. There is, in fact, no interval. There is a communication, then, every instant, — one stellar body with another. The Soul of Man is not of earthly substance, Yyiii — speaking figuratively*— of etherial substance. ♦ * ♦ All fluids are Vehicles. * * ♦ * May not the soul of man, at the period in which it separates from the body, be conveyed on one, or all of these Vehicles combined? * * * Whi- ther? ♦ ♦ ♦ " Wait the great teacher. Death, and God adore." ■' ■ ** Looking up, I view'd A vast, gigantic> spectre, striding on. We can only speak figaratively, ou a subject of this kind. u @90 NOTES. Through murmiiring thundery and a waste of donds. With dreadful action ! Black as nighty his hrow Relentless frowns involv'd: — ^his savage limbs^ With sharp impatience^ violent he writh'd^ As through convulsive anguish ; and his hand^ Arm'd with a scorpion lash^ full oft he rais'd. In madness, to his bosom ; while his eyes Rain'd bitter tears, and bellowing loud, he shook The void with horror. — Silent, by his side. The virgin came; no discomposure stirr'd Her features : from the glooms, which hung around, No stain of darkness, mingled with the beam Of her divine effiilgence/' B. 11. V. 506—520. This whole passage is an instance of the true sublime ; and the picture may be associated with that of Death and Sin in Milton'^s Paradise Lost €< Ask the faithful youth*, % Why the cold urn of her he fondly loved. So often fills his arms," &c. B, IL 683. * Chiedi al fido Garzon, perch^ si spesso Abbracci e stringa di colei, che tanto Ebbe de' suoi sospir, la gelid' urna; O perch^ sciolga solitario il piede A lei recando nelle tadte ore Delle lagrime sue mesto tributo. Ah! ti dira, quanti ha tesori il mondo, Questa non mi farian' ora si sacra Unqua obbliar, in cui lungi alle cure Bel livor, del tnmulto, una gradita NOTES. 291 That Akenside was alive to all the soft Impulses of nature, we have already shown. The loss of Parthenia he seems never to have forgotten ; and the grief, he had anticipated in the days of his youth, he was fated to experience in the season of manhood. " When the pious band Of youths^ who fought for freedom and their sires Lay aide by side in gore." B. 11. 726. Bimembranza mi tragge, el core efBitto Coi dokd Bguardi di virtu lusinga, £ in estasi converte il pianto mio. Mazza. In reference to this passage it has been observed^ that ** when the mind has been liberally and elegantly cultivated; where much sensibility and strength of passion are present, and the misfortunes occurring turn upon the loss of some tender and beloved connexion ; in this case, what may be called the luxury of grief is more fully and exquisitely dis- played. That mild and gentle sorrow, which, in the bosom of the good and of the feeling, succeeds the strong energies of grief, is of a nature so soothing and grateful, so friendly to the soft emotions of the soul, that those, whose friendship or whose love, the hand of fate has severed, delight in the indulgence of reflections, which lead to past endearment, which, dwdOing on the virtues, the perfections of the dead, breathe the pure spirit of melancholy enthusiasm." — Drake. u2 son NOTES. ** The reader will here naturally recollect the fete of the second battalion of Thebes, which at the^ battle of Cheron6a, was utterly destroyed ; every man being found dead by the side of his friend. This affecting circumstance is recorded by Plutarch, in his life of Pelopidas.'' — Akenside. ** When honoured urns Of patriots and of chiefs^ — the awful bust And storied arch^ to glut the coward rage Of regal envy^ strew the public way With hallowed ruins." B. 11. 734. To this passage may be traced Gray's line:— " Can storied urn, or animated bust?" and to the following, perhaps, Johnson'^s still more celebrated one of — '^ And panting time toiFd after him in vain." *' To eyes, to ears. To every organ of the copious mind He offereth all his treasures. Him the hours ; The seasons him obey ; and changeful time Sees him, cU wiU, keep measure with Ms flight. At will outstrip it*' B. IF, V, 109. NOTES. 293 BOOK THE THIRD. M The spacious west^ And all the teeming regions of the souths Hold not a quarry to the curious flight Of knowledge^ half so tempting and so fair As Man to Man." B. III. V. 7. Pope says *^ The proper study of mankind is man." Akenside was fully aware of this axiom, and wrote his poem to confirm the truth of it : and yet it is very remarkable, that he omitted it in his second poem. It is not impossible, however, that he might have intended to insert it in some other portion of the part, he meditated. It is thus rendered by MAZZA tr *' n diffuso occidente^ e le feraci Australi region certo non hanno Minieri si mirahile^ e che tanto Aletti del Saper I'avido yoIo« Quanto I'Uomo dell' Uom merta i riflessi *." * From the manner in which this passage^ and indeed the whole poem^ has heen translated^ how can a French reader 294 NOTES. •** Where the powers Of Fancy neither lessen nor enlarge The images of things/' &c. Diogenes Laertius, lib, vii. ; Meditations of M. Aurelius ; and the Discourses of Epictetus ; Arrian, lib. i. c. 12., and lib. ii. c. 2£« See also Charac- teristics, vol. i from p. 31*3 to 3S1. — Akenside. ■" Some date With martial splendour/' &c. B- IIL V. 98. This picture reminds us of certaia parts of Othello^s apology; and serves to show the wide difference between the impudence and modesty of valour. Akenside^s description is, in fact, a rever- ^on of that, sketched by Shakspeare. " He stalks^ resounding in magnific phrase The vanity of riches, the contempt Of pomp and power.'^ B* III. V. 136. have even the smallest conception of that exquisite harmony of rhythmu8> which distinguishes the original? ^* Les vastes contrees de t Occident, les fecondes rigions du piidi noffrent rien de si digne de recherches, rien qui nUrite autant texamen de la Science, gtie rhomme ne mSrite tetude de thomme" NOTES. 295 This picture is from Lucian ; though I cannot refer to the page or subject. Seneca, who was rich, and yet a contemner of wealth, may be supposed to have sat for the original portrait of him, " Whose eye regards not his iUustrious pomp And ample store ; but as indulgent streams To cheer the barren soil^ and spread the fruits Of joy." V, 147. *' Mark the sable woods/' &c. B. III. L 286. In respect to lawgivers, Akenside seems to have given a decided preference to Minos, Solon, and NuMA. He does not once mention Lycuhgus. Nearly the whole of the third book of the second poem is devoted to the history of Solon ; and a fine scene from nature is rendered much more affect- ing to the mental eye by the poet^s having asso- ciated with it two of the most celebrated legislators of antiquity. " Mark the sable woods. That shade sublime yon mountain's nodding brow ; With what religious awe the solemn scene Commands your steps ! as if the reverend form 296 NOTES. Of Minos or of Numa should forsake " ' Th' Elysian seats^ and, down th' embowering shade. Move to your pausing eye." I am indebted to Mr. Alison'^s work on the Nature of the Emotions of Sublimity and Beauty * for the first appreciation of this circumstance -f-. • Pages 19,20,21. f " There is also a passage in the same poet's Ode to Sus« picion," he goes on to observe, ^^ in which a scene, which is, in general, only beautiful, is rendered strikingly sublime, from the imagery with which it is connected. ' *Tis thus to work her baneful power. Suspicion waits the sullen hour Of fretfulness and strife 3 * When care the infirmer bosom wrings, Or Eurus waves his murky wings To damp the seats of life. But come ! forsake the scene unblest, Which first beheld your faithful breast To groundless fears a prey ; Come where, with my prevailing Ijrre, The skies, the streams, the groves, conspire To charm your doubts away. Throned in the sun's descending car. What power, unseen, difiuseth far This tenderness of mind ? : What Grenius smiles in yonder flood ? What God, in whispers from the wood. Bids every thought be kind r* " NOTES. 297 ^* 'Twas thuB^ if ancient Fame the truth unfold^ Two faithful needles, from th' informing touch Of the same parent stone^ together drew Its mystic virtue; and at first conspired^ With fatal impulse^ quivering to the pole. Then, though disjoin'd by kingdoms, though the main Roll'd its broad surge betwixt, and different stars Beheld their wakeful motions, yet preserved The former friendship, and remember'd still Th' alliance of their birth : whate'er the line Which one possess'd, nor pause, nor quiet knew The sure associate, ere with trembling speed He found its path, and fix'd unerring there." 3. III. 325—337. As Akenside directs us to the poem, recited by Cardinal Bembo, in the character of Lucretius, in Strada^s Prolusions, the reader will not be dis- pleased to find it here. ^' Magnesi genus est lapidis mirabile, cui si Corpora fern plura, stylosve admoveris; inde Non modo vim^ motumque trahent, quo semper ad ursam. Qua lucet vidna polo se vertere tentent : Verum etiam mira inter se ratione modoque Quotquot cum lapidem tetigere styli, simul omnes Conspirare situm motumque videbis in unum, Ut si forte ex his aliquis Roma moveatur. Alter ad hunc motum, quamvis sit dissitus long^ Arcano se natural feedere vertat. Ergo age, si quid scire voles, qui distat, amicum. Ad quem nulla accedere possit epistola; sume Planum orbem patulumque, notas elementaque prima S98 NOTES. Qrdine^ quo ducunt pueri describe per oras Extremas orbis; medioque repone jacentem^ Qui tetigit magneto, stylum; ut versatilis inde Literulam quamcnnqae Telia, contingere possit Hujoa ad exemplum, simili fabrica veris orbem Margine descriptum, manitnmque indice fern, Ferri quod motum magnete accepit ab illo. Hunc orbem discessurua dbi portet amicus, Conyeuiatque prius, quo tempore, queisre diebus Ezploret, stylus an trepidet, quidve indice signet His ite compositis, si dam cupis alloqui amicum, Quern procul a tete terrai distinct ora -, Orbi adjunge manum, ferrum versatile tracta. Hie disposta vides elemento in maigine toto : Quies opus est ad verba notis, hue dirige ferrum; Literulasque, modo banc, modo et silam cuspide tonge, Dum ferrum per eas iterumque iterumque rotando, Componas sigillatim sensa omnia mentis. Mira fides long^ qui distat cemit amicus Nullius impulsu trepidare volubile ferrum. Nunc hue, nunc illuc discurrere : conscius ha^ret, Observatque styli ductum, sequiturque legendo Hinc atque bine elemento, quibus in verba coactis Quid sit opus sentit, ferroque interprete discit Quin etiam cum store stylum videt, ipse vidssim Si qua respondenda putet simili ratione Literulis vari^ toctis, rescribit amico. O utinam haec ratio scribendi prodeat usu: Cautior, et dtior properaret epistola, nuUas Latronum verito insidias, fluviosque morantes. Ipse suis Princeps manibus sibi conficeret rem; Nos soboles scribarum emersi ex squore nigro, CONSECBAREMUS CALAMUM MAONETIS AD ORAS." Strada. Prol, Lib, 11. ProL VL NOTES. 299 €C By d^ees the mind Feels her young nerves dilate : the plastic powers Lahoor for action : blind emotions heave His bosom, and with holiest ^enzy* caught. From earth to heaven^ he rolls his daring eye, From heaven to earth." B. III. I. S80. Thus Sbakspeare : — €€ The poet's eye, in a fine irenzy rolling. Glances from earth to heaven, from heaven to earth. And as imagination," &c. *' As when a doud Of gathering hail with limpid crusts of ice Enclosed, and obvious to the beaming sun. Collects his large eflfulgence, straight, the heavens With equal flames present on either hand The radiant visage; Persia stands at gaze Appall'd; and on the brink of Ganges doubts The snowy vested seer, in Mithra's name^ To which the fragrance of the south shall bum. To which his warbled orisons ascend." B. III. V. 427. This very sublime simile stands a chance of not being exactly understood by some readers; but * In the MS. corrected poem we are directed to read: ** with holiest frenzy caught From earth to heaven, he darts his searching eye From heaven to earth." 300 NOTES. when they are reminded, that Akenside alludes to the two suns, one real, the other fictitious, so often beheld in very hot, as well as in very cold, tem- peratures, the sublimity will be so striking, that a critic, perhaps, might be justified in placing it in a rank, second only to Milton^s simile of Satan to the Sun during the time of an eclipse. " a visionary Paradise disclosed. Amid the dubious wild/' &c. B.III.v.Sn. This whole passage seems to have been founded on the following description in the Spectator, No. 413, " We are every where entertained with pleading shows and apparitions^ we discover imaginary glo- ries in the heavens and in tfie earth, a/nd see some of this visionary beauty poured out upon the whole creation. But what a rough unsightly sketch of nature should we he entertained with^ did aU her colouring disappear, and the several distinctions of light and shade vanish ! In short, our souls are, at present, delightfully lost and bewildered in a pleasing delusion ; and we walk about like the en- chanted hero in a romance, who sees beautiful cas- tles, woods and meadows, at the same time hears the warbling of birds and purling of sir earns; but upon KOTES. 301 ihejinishing of some secret spells the fantastic scene breaks upland the disconsolate knight Jinds himself on a barren heath, or in a solitarj/ forest."^ " What then is Taste ?" S. IIL V. 515. Akenside here traces the causes to which may be referred the pleasure, which is received from all, that strikes us in the material world with the sensa- tion of beauty. These are traced to the conclu- sion, that ^* the beauty and sublimitj/ of the qualities of matter arise from their being the signs or expres- sions of such qualities, as are fitted by the constitu- tion of our nature, to produce emotion,"^ The pas- sage is thus rendered by the Italian translator. *' Dunque il Gusto ch' ^ mai^ se non rinterne Fotenze agili e forti^ e a sentir pronte Ogn' impulso leggiero ? un retto senso II Decente a discemere^ e' 1 Sublime^ E in ogni spezie a ripulsar ben presto Deformi obbietti^ inordinati e rozzi ? Questo prestar non pon gemme^ o tesori^ Di porpora splendor, industria j e solo Dio solo, allor cbe I'efficace destra La secreta dell' alme indole impronta^ £gli puo sol rOmnipossente Padre Prudente, giusto, libero, siccome L'aura di yita e la luce del Cielo, Le bellezze svelar della Natura/' 302 NOTES. See Bbttinelli^s DdT Entunasmo deUe beW Arti, This work is very little known in this coun- try ; and yet it is worthy of being so. The author seems to have been acquainted with Milton, Ossian, and other British writers; but I do not remem- ber his having once alluded to Akenside; a cir- cumstance, rather extraordinary, when we consider the nature of his work. " Ask the SwAiK, Who journeys homeward from a summer day's Long labour," &c. Beattie has a fine passage, in some degree asso- ciating with this : '< From silent mountains, straight with startling sound. Torrents are hurl'd; green hills emerge; and lo. The trees with foliage, difis with flowers are crown'd; Pure rills through vales of verdure warbling go, And wonder, love, and joy, the Peasant's heart o'erflow." ^' Amid the mighty uproar, while below The nations tremble, Shakspeabe looks abroad. From sdme high diff superior, and enjoys The elemental war/' B. III. V. 555. ^^ Horace regards it as the last effort of philoso- NOTES. 303 pbic fortitude to behold, without terror and amaze- ment, this immense and glorious fabric of the uni- verse:— ' Hiinc solem^ et stellas^ et decedentia certis Tempora momentis, sunt qui fonnidine nulla Lnbuti spectant.' a Lucretius is a poet not to be suspected of giving way to superstitious terrors ; yet when he supposes the whole mechanism of Nature laid open by the master of his philosophy, his transport on this mag- nificent \iew, which he has represented in the colours of such bold and lively poetry, is overcast with a shade of secret dread and horror :— ' His tibi me rebus quedam divina Yoluptas Percipit, atque borror^ quod sic natura tua vi Tarn manifesta patet ex omni parte retecta.'" Brown. '' Ob^ blest of Heav'n ! wbom not tbe languid songs Of Luxury^ tbe Siren !" &c. B. III. L 568. Shaftesbury^s ideas on luxury are stated in vols, i. 810. 316. 319, &c.; ii. 147, &c. ; iii. 199. 804. His ideas in regard to pleasure may*be traced in i. 808 ; ii. 226 ; iii. 200. 229. He proves, that pleasure has no rule of good, i. 309* 339 : that the pleasures of mind are far superior to those of the 304 NOTES. body, ii. 99^ 100 : and that even men of pleasure are compelled to acknowledge the influence and delights, which impregnate a virtuous bosom, i. 140. Ed. 1737. " Not a breeze Flies o'er the meadow^" &c. ///. 593. Marcus Antoninus, lib. iii. 2. — Aeenside. " What though not all Of mortal offspring/' &c. The advantages of a cultivated imagination are here set forth in a very masterly manner. « What though not all Of mortal offspring can attain the heights Of enyied life \ though only few possess Patrician treasures or imperial state ; Yet Nature's care^ to all her children just^ With richer treasures and an ampler state. Endows at large whatever happy man Will deign to use them. His the city's pomp. The rural honours his. Whate'er adorns The princdy dome, the column and the arch. The breathing marbles and the sculptur'd gold. Beyond the proud possessor's narrow claim. His tuneful breast enjoys. NOTES. 805 For him the spring Distils her dews^ and from the silken gem Its ludd leaves unfolds : for him the hand Of autumn tinges every fertile hranch With blooming gold and blushes like the morn. Each passing hour sheds tribute from her wings ; And still new beauties meet his lonely walk. And loves unfelt attract him. Not a breeze Flies o'er the meadow, not a cloud imbibes The setting sun's effulgence, not a strain From all the tenants of the warbling shade Ascends, but whence his bosom can partake Fresh pleasure unreproved*." * Professor Stuart has a beautiful observation in his Phi- losophical Essays. (P. 609. 4to.) '' When a man has suc- ceeded, at length, in cultivating his imagination, things, the most familiar and unnoticed, disclose charms invisible before. The same objects and events, which were lately beheld with indifference, occupy now all the powers and capacities of the soul; the contrast between the present and the past serving only to enhance and to endear so unlooked for an acquisition. What Gray has so finely said of the pleasures of vicissitude, conveys but a faint image of what is experienced by the man, who after having lost, in vulgar occupation and vulgar amuse- ment, his earliest and most precious years, is thus introduced, at last, to a new heaven and a new earth. The meanest floweret of the vale. The simplest note that swells the galC) The common sun, the air, the skies> To him are opening paradise." X 806 XOTKS. " With God himself hold converse." B, III. 629. There is an elegant paper in the Tatler (or Spec- tator), by Bishop Berkeley ; the moral of which is, that he cared little to be the real possessor of an estate, as long as he was allowed the use and plea- sure of walking over it, as often as he pleased. Akenside alludes to this in a line quoted above. €t Beyond the proud possessor's narrow daim/ Akenside was doomed to the dust and poison of a large city, during the greatest portion of his life. His proper sphere was the garden and the valley, the mountain, the ocean, and the firmament, where with a hallowed mind he might have " With God himself Held converse, grew familiar, day by day, With his conceptions, acted on his plan. And form'd to his the relish of his soul*. • but content with little, and practically desirous of promoting the comfort of all that breathe. As no one comes into the world through the medium of hi» 312 NOTES. pendous cause; — instead of ease after mild labour, and thoughts, on which the mind, contented, may repose ; for the rich and great, little better will there be than abundance and languor, proud hopes, ambitious aspirations, heartless deeds, and sleepless nights : for the poor, intensity of labour and inten- sity of want; impurity and disease; sorrow and ignominy ; hopeless honesty, and cruel wounds. own choice, every one, that does come, has a natural right, — until that right is forfeited hy the infringement of good laws^ — not only to food and clothing, hut to a life, valtiable to himself. When these cannot he commanded hy honest endeavours (of hody or of mind), the state of society is cruelly^ if not criminally, defective; and it hecomes the imperative duty of all to aid an existing government in putting forth its full extent of lawful influence and power, to the end, that the Legitimate Right may command the Legitimate Result. THE END. LONDON : printed by THOMAS DAVIS(^^, WHITEFRIAES. i. 0/ APR 4 1938